The Creature You Know
by In Dreams
Summary: While trying to restore her parents' memories, Hermione becomes cursed by a powerful sorcerer. Chased by her past and bound by fate to a former rival turned ally, she must work with Draco Malfoy to navigate the conflicts forcing them apart, in order to learn if there is a chance for them to be together. Veela!Draco. Post-war EWE.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Welcome to a brand new story! This is a Veela/creature fic. I will be aiming to update this story approximately once a week. I hope you enjoy, and if you do, let me know what you think. :)

Thanks to Kyonomiko for being absolute alpha royalty on this fic. And a shout-out to the ladies at the Dramione Fanfiction Forum for the countless word sprints from which this was born.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 _ **Prologue - June 14, 2000**_

It had been a year. A year, and Hermione Granger was emotionally, physically and mentally exhausted.

There was no way, the Australian healers at the magical hospital in Brisbane had told her. Upon hearing of the situation, the healers of St. Mungo's had agreed. The damage was irreparable.

If she had perhaps cast the spell differently, or not at all, or – why had she cast the spell anyway? Hermione was tired of hearing it. Tired of hearing that her parents would never again acknowledge themselves as Patrick and Jean Granger; that they would never again acknowledge her as their daughter.

Monica and Wendell Wilkins, it seemed, were to be their permanent identities and altered reality.

"There has to be a way," she had pleaded with the healers, the aides, whomever would be willing to listen. Which, after a year and some less than tactful attempts on Hermione's part, had dwindled to a mere few.

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger, I am," Healer Carlson, one of the lead healers on her parents' file, had said. "There is simply nothing we can do. Their minds have accepted the change. Even if we _could_ reverse the spell, it would be too much."

"Thank you, Healer Carlson," Hermione had sighed, even as the hot sting of tears threatened her eyes. "I appreciate your efforts."

She had walked away, slumped with defeat, fingers pressed to her temples in an attempt to delay the migraine brewing.

"Try the Witch Doctor," someone had hissed from a supply closet. A pair of dark eyes widened as she walked closer. It was a member of the magical maintenance department, if the orange robes were anything to go by.

"The Witch Doctor?" Hermione had inquired. But the door slammed before her.

She had heard the name before. Spoken in whispers tossed on the wind, the possessors of those voices hidden, as if this _Witch Doctor_ could hear them. As if the very consideration of such a character was bone-chilling.

And when she'd tried to learn more, she had become familiar with doors closing in her face, backs turning, hissed warnings. No one, it seemed, was prepared to talk in depth on the subject.

But she hadn't been able to let it go.

She had asked Healer Carlson about it, who had visibly recoiled with wide eyes and a furrowed brow. He was not a doctor at all, she learned, but a wrathful sorcerer, adept in healing magic and traditional medicines. Hidden deep in the Australian wilderness.

"But can he _help_?" Hermione had pleaded.

"I don't know," Carlson had clipped, shaking his head. "But you really ought to ask yourself whether it's worth it. Those who even _return_ from a consult with the Witch Doctor… they're never the same."

But Hermione was out of ideas and utterly drained, bone-weary and ready to return home. _With_ her parents in tow. She was willing to try anything, and how could this Witch Doctor possibly be worse than facing Voldemort?

So she had hunted for information and it was another month before she found a remotely credible source. The Witch Doctor lived in a hut deep in the outback – a hut that couldn't be found by just anyone.

So she had hired a guide, spending the last Galleons of her Ministry-gifted cash award for her services during the war, on this final effort.

The guide – who spoke only minimal English – gave her a list of items she would need. It seemed they could only Apparate so far, and then the remainder of the trek would be on foot.

She ignored the ominous voice in the back of her mind suggesting this was as bad an idea as everyone had warned.

So armed with a pack of supplies – food, water, medicine and survival gear – to combat the blazing heat and the foreboding wilderness, Hermione and her guide set out from the outskirts of Brisbane, Apparating into the interior as close as possible and then carrying on.

By the middle of the afternoon, the sun was scorching, Hermione was drenched with sweat and the guide was unwilling to provide any information with regards to their progress.

When they halted for a brief meal of dried meats and some sort of local bread, Hermione suggested they should perhaps make camp for the night but the guide merely shot her a look, packed his bag and set off again, even as the sun crept closer to the horizon.

As it grew darker, and the light from Hermione's wand did little to reveal the numerous roots and obstacles along the meagre trail, they finally came upon a dimly lit hut and Hermione wasn't sure whether to sag with relief or to turn and run. The very energy emanating from the hut caused her core magic to recoil viciously.

The guide stayed a safe distance away and simply gestured to the hut, his eyes wide. Clearly he would not be venturing inside.

Steeling herself for the encounter, Hermione rapped sharply on the wooden door. The hut itself looked as if it were about to fall apart, and if not for the premonitory feeling chilling her bones, it might have reminded Hermione of The Burrow.

After a tremendously tense pause, the door swung inwards. A mere few torches flickered in the otherwise dark interior of the hut; a cloaked and hooded figure stood just beyond the threshold. Hermione couldn't see the face.

"Are you the Witch Doctor?" she asked, her voice scarcely more than a whisper.

"Yes," the figure replied, its voice hoarse and weak.

"I seek your guidance," Hermione swallowed heavily, "and if you will it, your assistance. You see, my parents –"

"Your parents have had their memories altered," the Witch Doctor croaked. "You are responsible. You will come inside."

With a nervous glance back to her guide, who nodded eagerly but with terrified eyes, Hermione followed the Witch Doctor into the dark hut, trying not to wince when the door closed behind her, the sound echoing harshly across the tight space.

"You know about my parents?" Hermione asked, hesitantly taking a seat on a low chair before a carved wooden table.

"Yes," the Witch Doctor said simply. "Tea?"

"Please," Hermione said, surprised at the banal courtesy. The Witch Doctor swept near, a strangely decorated teapot suddenly in his hands. She bit her lip on the wretched scent that assaulted her. He poured a glass of tea for her, and none for himself, and then sat on the other side of the table.

Hermione still could not see his face; she was almost relieved.

She took a sip of the tea, and it tasted foreign and otherworldly on her tongue. She suddenly wondered if it was poisoned or otherwise imbued.

"Hermione Granger," the Witch Doctor said, "you have travelled far for nothing. I will not fix the condition in which you have placed your parents."

"You won't?" she asked, surprised they had jumped into the matter so quickly and irate that he had not even heard her out. "Or you can't?"

"I will not," the Witch Doctor said, his voice clearer than it had been. "The fate of your parents was altered the day you lifted your wand. You have once upset the natural balance, and I shall not do it again."

"But their lives were at risk!" Hermione insisted, attempting and failing to keep her voice level. She was so _tired_ of hearing there was no answer. "If I hadn't done anything they might have died!"

"Then they would have died," the Witch Doctor said calmly, "and the magic of the world would have remained in balance. Your actions that day did more than you intended."

"Please," she begged, not concerned with how she appeared. "I have tried everything! This is my last hope!"

"Your efforts are admirable," the Witch Doctor said, with a tilt of that hooded face. "But they are, I am afraid, for naught. I will allow you to leave now. Consider it a mercy."

"You must help me," Hermione murmured, beseeching the Witch Doctor to reconsider. "I know you can help them – please, just this once."

"Hermione Granger," the Witch Doctor chuckled and it was bone chilling. "I have given you an opportunity to leave. You would do well to learn some humility and respect. I will _not_ do this act and you will do well to leave."

Hermione stood abruptly, feeling her temper rise despite the deep-seated fear within her. She would take _no more_ of this. She _had_ to save her parents.

"I _know_ you can fix this, and yet you speak in riddles!" she exclaimed, heart racing. "What is the cost? Please, just tell me!"

"The cost of this magic is far greater than I am willing to pay," the Witch Doctor said, rising as well; he towered over Hermione. "You are intelligent, Hermione Granger, but you show a decided lack of wisdom! I warn you – leave now."

"I don't care!" she snapped, teeth gritted. " _What_ is the cost! You sit here in this stupid hut, alone, with magic beyond measure, yet you are unwilling to help!"

The lanterns in the hut flickered as the floor quaked. Hermione's eyes flew wide open as the Witch Doctor approached.

"You will _learn_ , Hermione Granger!" the Witch Doctor declared, and the air in the hut began to swirl and gust about the small space. Hermione shuddered with a deep, unnatural fear as the cool night air encompassed her, a cold dread seizing her at the brash temper which she had shown. "I curse you! You _will_ learn respect and humility and wisdom and _you_ will be the one to speak in riddles! For one thousand days _you_ will live a cursed existence, _alone_ , and if you fail to learn, you shall be cursed for the remainder of your closed-minded life!"

Hermione gasped in a sudden terror, as she felt cold and vengeful magic twisting in the very air around her. What had she done? She choked on the words that she could not speak, to take back her harsh judgements, and tears came to her eyes as the Witch Doctor straightened to his full height, gathering the force of his power.

Hermione had made a terrible mistake in coming here.

She looked to the door in a panic, and it pulsed with a dark light, even as the Witch Doctor approached, and beneath the hood she could see his terrible, evil grin, his teeth crooked and stained.

"Please," she breathed, the air ripping from her lungs as raw, unfiltered magic overtook her.

Pain like she had only experienced once before tore through her bones, shredding her muscle, and Hermione cried out as the cold waves of power swept through her, one after another until she could take no more. The last vestiges of her consciousness slipped, even as she felt the magic begin to retreat, and her eyes fell shut as she collapsed to the ground and remembered no more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Hey everyone! Thanks so much for the wonderful response to the first chapter of this fic! I'm so grateful for all the reviews, follows and favourites. Since chapter 1 was just a short prologue, here's chapter 2 a bit early. I hope you enjoy! :)

Alpha love to the fabulous Kyonomiko.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 _ **July 27, 2002**_

A glass vial slipped from Draco Malfoy's hand, shattering instantly when it made impact with the stone floor.

Cursing, Draco quickly waved his wand to vanish the mess, his heart pounding. His eyes flew rapidly around the room, as if he could somehow locate the source of his screaming discomfort.

The shock that had just coursed through Draco's veins – the pure _awareness_ – had nearly knocked him off his feet. Panting, Draco dropped a hand to a nearby workbench to stabilize himself, forcing his breathing to normalize. He had never felt anything like that.

"Mr Malfoy!" Master Herrero exclaimed. "What in the name of Merlin –"

Draco's potions master stopped short when he saw Draco's state, his eyes wide and mouth agape. The man crept forward, a hand out. Draco lifted his gaze to meet that of his mentor, his brow furrowed.

"I need to go," he breathed, his heart racing.

"Very well," the man agreed, waving a hand towards the door. "Then go."

Draco didn't think twice before he grabbed his bag from a nearby hook and Apparated home, his heart overwhelmed with a growing sense of panic.

* * *

"Theo. Wake up." Draco cautiously nudged his best mate awake with a long stick.

"What the fuck, Draco!" Theo Nott snarled, eyes snapping open and darting to the window. "It's the middle of the afternoon!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "And a perfectly reasonable time to be wide awake and productive."

"Wrong," Theo said simply, rolling over. "Let me sleep."

"Get up," Draco ground through his teeth. He walked to the window and threw the curtains open, despite the inhuman growl coming from his friend. "We need to go. I feel – something feels strange."

Theo cracked an eye open again and then the other. He assessed the expression on Draco's pale face. "Like _strange_ , as in –"

"Yes," Draco murmured, his brow furrowed. "I _need_ to go."

Indeed, he felt the call racing through his veins. It was all he could do to maintain his focus on this inane conversation with Theo, when every fibre of his being was demanding he _go_.

Groaning, Theo rose from bed and Draco averted his eyes as his mate threw on a pair of Muggle jeans and a jumper, irritably pulling the hood far over his face, and jamming his wand into a pocket.

"Take your tonic, I don't need you turning into dust," Draco said, thrusting a vial into Theo's hand, and the dark-haired man drank the potion without complaint. Draco's blood was pounding in his ears, imploring he answer the call. "Let's go."

"Are you sure this isn't something else?" Theo asked, lifting a brow. "You thought this was happening the day your wings showed up for the first time and _that_ was obviously a false alarm."

"Get stuffed, Theo," Draco said impatiently, pressing his fingers to his temples.

"You don't even need me to come," Theo reminded him. He looked longingly to his bed and Draco shoved down his rising temper, even as he felt his hands grow warm and his hackles raise. "And how will you find her, anyway?"

"I'll just go," Draco said simply. "The draw is strong." He pressed his hands together, taking several deep breaths. Then he grasped Theo's forearm. "And fucking _behave_!"

"Always," Theo smirked. Draco rolled his eyes, the call pounding so heavily in his head now he was afraid he might vomit.

He zeroed in on the summons and Apparated the pair of them from the flat.

* * *

"Well this is unpleasant as fuck," Theo commented dryly and Draco felt inclined to agree.

Not only had they arrived at a wedding reception, horribly underdressed, but it appeared to be the wedding of none other than Harry Potter.

"There are probably five hundred people here," Draco said, panic creeping into his heart, even as the rush through his veins intensified tenfold being in such close proximity. "She could be anywhere in this atrocious mob."

Draco could see Potter and his bride – that weird blonde girl from Ravenclaw – mingling with various guests. A band played a merry, upbeat song, while other guests danced and drank and participated in the general enthusiasm that made Draco's stomach roll.

"Can't you sense her?" Theo asked, shifting awkwardly on his feet, as he pulled his hood down lower. Draco felt a twinge of pity; Theo wasn't accustomed to such large gatherings yet.

"Yes," Draco said, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight, "but my senses are generally going insane at the moment. This has to be it, Theo. Last time didn't feel so urgent as this."

"Then we'll find her," Theo said, reassuringly.

Draco blocked out the pulsing, screaming urges long enough to assess his friend. "Are you sure you're alright to be here?"

"No," Theo said with a nervous grin that flashed his razor-sharp canines, "but I've got to learn sometime, don't I?"

"This doesn't have to be the time to learn," Draco said, even as he began walking in the direction of the call. His heart sped up in anticipation. All of his senses were fixated entirely on the call. This was it; he would finally meet her.

People turned and stared at Draco as he walked by, eyes glazed, and he attempted to force his breathing to slow down and his naturally enticing pheromones to settle. He had no interest in any of these other women – or the handful of men.

"No, it doesn't," Theo grimaced, "but you were there for me when you didn't have to be. So let's go. But just – if we can avoid the people dancing… the overexertion, you understand."

"Of course," Draco said, and gave the group of dancers a wide berth for Theo's sake.

As he walked he felt the summons and it became a part of him. His heart, his mind, every cell of his body drawn to _her_. His mate.

Draco kept half an eye on Theo as they walked, just to ensure his friend wasn't distracted, but he felt nothing but purpose and destiny as he strode in the direction of a large display of food.

He would find her, and grab her, and take her with him –

Draco halted, physical pain slamming into his chest like a boulder.

Where the call had been just moments before, so urgent and all-encompassing – there was nothing. An empty void.

"She's gone," Draco gasped, a hand clutched to his heart. His head spun, heart pounding, even as he anxiously searched the crowd, in case his other senses had somehow failed him.

"What do you mean, gone?" Theo said, adjusting his hood once more. Draco could sense his breathing had grown heavier. He would have to get Theo out of this situation soon. "Like, she Apparated away?"

"I don't even feel her presence anymore," Draco breathed. His head was pounding and the sunlight made him want to retch. "Not even distantly, like it was before."

"How is that possible?" Theo gasped, his voice low. He was pale beneath the hood – more so than usual. His eyes were beginning to glow with flecks of red, and he swallowed heavily, tongue darting out to moisten his dry lips.

"I don't know," Draco gritted, grabbing Theo's arm, "but I'm getting you out of here."

Then just as he was about to Apparate them both home, Draco saw Potter notice them through the crowd, a look of surprise on his features. Draco forced a smirk and a brief nod, and while Potter turned to question his bride, Draco took the opportunity to leave.

He shoved Theo into a chair once they arrived back in their flat. Theo was gnawing on his own lower lip, the skin tearing open easily – and healing almost as quickly – as if to stifle the cravings.

"Have you got blood here?" Draco asked, keeping a safe distance, his wand hand tensed by his pocket.

"In my room." Draco tried to ignore the way Theo's eyes flickered to his throat.

He should have known better than to take Theo out without the man imbibing first. With the call silenced, Draco found his focus return as the urges subsided, which worried him as much as it relieved him. Maybe it hadn't been his mate, after all?

He wished the healers could give him some _real_ answers, not simply estimations based on how his diluted Veela blood _might_ react.

Clearly, his blood was more volatile than his father's had been at this age, who had never felt the mating call, or shown any of the other _attributes_ Draco had been discovering with mild horror.

He grabbed a bag of blood from the wooden case in which Theo stored his stash, and tossed the bag across the sitting room to his mate, who instantly tore a pair of neat holes with his canines and began to drink.

It had been three months since Theo had been bitten and turned, and Draco had never even considered giving up on his oldest friend. Though cautiously wary, he had done his best to help Theo through the excruciating transition. And Theo had only tried to attack him twice.

But if you asked Theo, the female who had turned him into a vampire, despite the outcome, had been _so worth it_.

Then almost two months ago, when Draco's Veela heritage had begun to arbitrarily manifest upon his twenty-second birthday, Theo had repaid the favour.

Theo had nodded along while the healers, summoned to their flat since Draco had been in too much pain to move, verified what was happening.

While Lucius Malfoy's Veela blood had never manifested, and nor had either of _his_ parents, or indeed, anyone for many generations back – Draco had discovered an old journal of a Malfoy patriarch who had experienced certain Veela symptoms in the mid-nineteenth century, including the call to a mate.

But none of that had prepared Draco for the first time he had grown wings.

Or thrown fire from his hands.

Theo had sucked the bag dry, without spilling a single drop, and gave Draco a sheepish smile across the room. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Draco said with a dismissive wave. "I should have known better. But to be fair, I also didn't know we were Apparating into a sea of people."

"Where do you suppose she went?" Theo asked, his bloodlust under control once more.

"No idea," Draco said, dragging a hand down his face. "She was _so_ close, and then just gone. Completely."

"And you're sure it was your mate?" Theo queried, pondering. "How bizarre. Maybe it'll come back."

"In almost two months, it was the first time I've felt that," Draco mourned. "If she had simply left, I would still feel her, wouldn't I? Like I felt her when I was at home."

Theo shrugged. "Maybe she lives in a different country, and the distance is too far." He grinned. "Maybe she's a Scandinavian supermodel."

Draco huffed a laugh, grateful for the diversion. The worry had been gnawing at him since the summons had mysteriously vanished. He sank into the couch, fiddling with his wand.

But he couldn't ignore the sudden void that had taken up residence in his chest like a dull throb. And he didn't think distance would be enough to completely kill that entirely obsessive desire. To find. To mate.

"Somehow I doubt Potter knows too many Scandinavian supermodels," he conceded and Theo chuckled with a shrug.

"Probably not," Theo agreed. "And if she knows Potter, she's probably English. Although – she left his wedding in the middle of the reception, so she's either not _that_ good of a friend, or particularly flighty."

"Whoever she is…" Draco trailed off, freezing as a shadow of the same feeling echoed through the back of his mind, like a warning bell. He clung to the feeling, to the only shred of evidence that his mate even existed.

"Draco?" Theo asked, one brow raised.

Draco distractedly raised one finger, zeroing in on the sensation again, forcing it to the forefront of his mind. It was instinctive, he found, to bring his focus onto the signature of his mate.

"It's back – but faint. I can't understand it," he murmured, eyes slipping briefly closed. Or maybe it hadn't entirely gone, but had been so distant he hadn't realized at first. It felt different, somehow, the feel of it.

"Can you locate her?" Theo asked, unblinking. It was an aspect of the vampirism Draco hadn't grown accustomed to yet, and didn't think he ever would.

"I'm trying," Draco said, bringing the call forth like a thin, delicate thread, capturing the essence of it in a clenched fist. "I think so – come on."

Theo darted across the room, securing his hood once more, and as soon as he made contact, Draco Apparated them both from the room.

They arrived this time on the outskirts of a forest, and unlike before, there was no one around. Draco immediately tensed at the utter lack of sound – not even birds or insects – and his wand hand twitched toward his pocket.

If this was some sort of trick –

Theo let out an odd, strangled sort of sound beside him and Draco spun to follow his gaze, drawing his wand. His heart rate accelerated, obliterating the faint thread of the connection, but his hand was steady as he he took a defensive stance.

A lion crouched just beyond the treeline, its narrowed eyes fixed on the two of them, its body coiled tightly and ready to pounce. Draco glanced briefly to Theo and his friend was salivating, eyes glazed over, focused intently on the lion.

"Don't you fucking dare," Draco hissed under his breath. "You may be dead already but I am very much alive and I intend to stay that way."

Theo snorted. "I could take it down." Indeed, he hadn't even drawn his wand. Though Draco supposed Theo was a predator in his own right, now.

He felt a tingle of fear at the thought of his mate being near this forest, near a fully-grown lion. What was a lion doing in a forest in England, anyway? For Draco would not have been able to Apparate internationally.

He debated stunning the lion and simply leaving – but if his mate was here, he needed to find and save her. The thread had grown so faint it was all but gone. Had the lion attacked her? Was that why the connection was so weak? His heart hammered frantically at the thought.

But as he looked at the lion, his brow furrowed. The wildcat straightened, staring back at him. Then it cocked its head to the side, its eyes widened. And there was something there, in its eyes – intelligence, or understanding.

Recognition.

Draco hesitated, but he slipped his wand away, holding his hands out in a gesture of surrender.

"The fuck are you doing?" Theo said, turning to him with an incredulous look on his face.

"It isn't a lion," Draco murmured. "An Animagus, or something." The lion snuffled, as if it were laughing at him. Draco's eyes widened and his brows flew into his hair. "You can understand me, can't you?"

The lion huffed again, rolling onto its back in the grasses. Theo, whilst still looking bewildered, was gazing at the massive cat as if it would be his next meal. Draco didn't know whether to laugh or run – whatever he had said was apparently funny.

Abruptly, the lion stood and walked deeper into the forest. Despite himself, Draco followed at a safe distance and Theo trailed after him, shaking his head.

They arrived at a small clearing, and there was a patch of crushed, dead grasses at the mouth of a small cave that was clearly the lion's den. But the lion was nowhere to be seen.

Draco whirled at a sound behind him, and his eyes flew wide as several things crossed his mind at once – and he didn't know which was more shocking.

Where the lion had presumably been, now stood Hermione Granger, leaning against a tree, her curly hair wild and untidy, her expression unimpressed.

And more importantly – as Draco choked on his next breath – every single fibre of Draco's body and soul were now screaming of his mate. Granger – his mate. He couldn't hear for the pounding of his blood in his ears. Theo glanced at him.

He took a step toward her and stopped himself with every shred of willpower he possessed. For Granger was staring at him as if he were something nasty she had stepped in.

She chewed her tongue for a long moment, as if trying to decide what to say. Finally – " _What_ are you doing here?" She spat the words as if with great difficulty.

"This is awkward," Theo murmured beside him, and Granger's eyes snapped to him. She recoiled as if in surprise, and delicately sniffed the air. Draco wondered if being a lion enhanced her human senses.

Draco stared, not knowing how to answer. He didn't think outright claiming her as his mate was the best course of action. But she hadn't given him a second glance either – since his Veela inheritance had manifested, he could hardly walk down the street without catching attention.

Granger sniffed again, her brow furrowing as she stared at him. "What _are_ –" But she cut herself off, turning to Theo. "Where is the ocean the deepest?" She grimaced, shaking her head, even as she flushed pink. " _Please_ , think it over carefully."

"What the fuck, Granger?" Draco asked. Meanwhile Theo nodded and pondered the sudden riddle.

"At the bottom, I should suppose," Theo said after a moment. Draco shook his head, utterly bewildered.

"Thank you," Granger said with a heavy exhale. She gave an awkward laugh that wasn't returned. "Nervous tic."

She shook her head again, folding her arms across her front. Draco felt his eyes follow the movement, settling on her chest. He licked his lips.

"Malfoy," she exclaimed, glaring at him. His blood roared at the sound of her saying his name. "What are you doing here? And why do both of you smell ridiculous?"

Draco jerked his eyes up to meet hers. "This feels like a conversation that needs alcohol." Granger scoffed, her lip curling as she stared at him. "Will you join us at the Leaky?"

"No," she said hesitantly, "but somewhere more private. I would like to know how you found me."

"Where are we, even?" Draco asked, looking around him. It couldn't be the Hogwarts Forbidden Forest – could it?

"It's the Forest of Dean," Granger said dismissively, even as she dug her wand out from within the pile of dead grass. She shrugged as they stared. "It isn't as if I can carry it on me while I'm a lion. No one else would see it here, even if they were looking."

"And _why_ were you a lion?" Theo asked dryly. His desire for her blood seemed to have faded since she had turned back into a human. Which was good, because Draco didn't relish attacking Theo if he went for his mate.

Draco found himself staring at her again, and the call that had been so thin while she had been in her feline form was urging him nearer, but he managed to tamp down on the desires.

"It's a long story," Granger said with a shrug. "I'll tell you when you explain why you both smell inhuman."

"Right," Draco said, shaking himself out of the near trance he had found himself in as he stared at her. His fingertips tingled, needing to feel her, and he pressed his hands together carefully. "There's a small wizarding population outside of Gloucester. They run a pub near the docks there."

"Fine," Granger said easily, her arms folded over her chest again. "I'll meet you there."

And she was gone with a _pop_.

"Draco," Theo said, shaking his head. "What the fuck. Your mate is Granger."

"Yeah," Draco murmured, feeling a smile slip onto his features as the thought sunk in. "Bloody perfect isn't she? That _hair._ "

"You made fun of her hair for years," Theo reminded him.

"It's _perfect_ ," Draco hissed, eyes narrowed.

"I'm surprised you didn't jump her right then," Theo said matter-of-factly, ignoring him. "I wonder how strong the bond will be compared to if you were a full-blooded Veela? I don't know that a full Veela could have been so controlled just then."

"I guess we'll find out," Draco said with a grimace. "Let's go."

* * *

Granger was already seated at the pub when they arrived, glaring around at the other patrons anxiously. A server approached her as Draco slid into a seat on the other side of the table, Theo beside him.

Granger chewed her bottom lip aggressively while the server asked her order. She glanced at Draco, almost imploringly.

"Three firewhiskys, please," Draco said after a moment, his brow furrowed.

Granger let out a sigh of relief but then, before the server could walk away – "I fly without wings; I cry without tears. What am I?"

The server turned to her, utterly bewildered, and Theo barked out a laugh. But Draco frowned at the look of frustration and embarrassment on Granger's face. His hands began to grow warm.

"Er, I don't –" the server began, scratching his neck.

"The answer's a cloud, mate," Draco said, clapping the server on the shoulder. "Never mind her."

He leaned in across the table, drawn to her, as the server walked away, his brow furrowed.

"What's with the riddles, Granger?" he asked softly. She met his eyes, suspicious, and quickly looked away.

"I can't help it," she said simply, but her tone was too breathy to come off as nonchalant. She folded her arms, obviously hesitant to be there with the two of them. "So, answers? How did you find me? And –" she gestured between them "– what's going on here?"

Draco glanced to Theo, pursing his lips. He wasn't ready to tell Granger how he had found her yet – that she was his mate. Theo shrugged, looking absently around the pub.

"A Veela and a vampire walk into a bar, Granger." Draco smirked as her eyes widened.

There was something wholly predatory about the way her shoulders tensed, as if she couldn't decide whether she should run or attack. Draco wondered how much time she spent in her animal form.

"A Veela," she repeated, swallowing as she looked at Draco, then Theo, "and a vampire?" Theo nodded. Granger snorted softly. "I guess the Malfoys aren't as pure-blooded as they always say. And Nott, that explains why you smell like blood." Not grinned, flashing his canines. Granger's nails dug into the table, and for a split second, Draco thought they might have flickered into claws and back.

"Yes, well," Draco shrugged. "It's been ages since Veela blood was bred into the line. It's _typically_ stayed dormant. Your turn. What are _you_? Not an Animagus then?" Draco raised an appraising eyebrow at her.

Granger sighed, shaking her head. "I'm a sphinx. Or rather, a poor approximation of one."

Draco leaned back, his brow furrowed in consternation.

"What the fuck, Granger?" Theo asked, snickering. "Is that a bad joke? How could you possibly be a sphinx?"

But her expression suggested it was anything but a joke. Draco continued to stare at her as she swirled her drink the server had delivered.

"Part human, part lion," she listed absently, "prone to asking riddles."

"Shite Granger, how?" Draco asked, eyes wide. "I don't recall you blurting riddles out at Hogwarts. And I didn't think sphinxes could change between forms?"

"Generally, they can't," she said, chewing her lip. She sighed heavily and frowned, turning to Draco. "Feed me and I live; give me a drink and I die."

"Fire," he said easily, "now go on."

"Thanks," she said with another weary sigh. "They come out every so often, obviously. It's easier to just let it happen. Anyway, after our eighth year finished, I was in Australia trying to find a way to restore my parents' memories after I had modified their identities during the war."

Draco nodded; he knew the story. Almost everything had come out in the seemingly endless trials after the final Battle of Hogwarts.

"After a year I was out of options and frustrated," Granger said, chewing her lip. "But there was this _Witch Doctor_ who lived deep in the wilderness. Everyone warned me against seeking him out, but I hired a guide anyway and found him. He refused to help, stating I had upset the natural order of things – and admittedly, I may have been a bit brash with my response." She made a face and Draco refrained from laughing. Granger took a long pull from her whisky, savouring it.

"The Witch Doctor was a sorcerer with a vicious sense of humour; he declared I thought I knew too much, when really I knew little, and needed to learn humility. He cursed me." She swallowed and took another drink.

"It doesn't sound terrible, to be honest," Draco said. "So you ask a lot of riddles – you get to turn into a lion. That's fun, isn't it?"

"I choose to be a lion because of the riddles," she said with a grimace. "You only think it isn't bad because you've known the answers."

"Wait, what would happen if we guessed a riddle wrong?" Draco asked, suddenly curious. Theo tilted his head as well.

"It's quite unpleasant," Granger said, wincing. "I would have a sudden and immense urge to transform and devour you. It's difficult for me to stay in human form for long, you see."

"That's dreadful," Draco said, even as Theo snickered beside him. Draco rolled his eyes; it was easy enough for Theo to laugh – he couldn't be easily killed. "What a bizarre curse. I wonder why he turned you into a sphinx, though."

"I accused him of talking in riddles," Granger said with another deep sigh. "It's all quite a mess, really."

"We finished eighth year three years ago," Theo said, turning to Granger. Draco suspected he had been scouting the patrons for the bulk of the conversation. "Have you been a lion ever since?"

"Well, it was a year before I exhausted my options and went to the Witch Doctor – I spent another year after that in Australia, trying to figure a way out of this curse, but it seemed he vanished. Or at least, I simply wasn't able to locate him again, no matter what I tried. Finally I returned to England, and I've spent the last year in my lion form, until today." Granger finished her whisky and Draco's eyes widened; his was hardly touched.

"For Potter's wedding," Draco said, nodding. The call had been so much weaker when she had been a lion, and that was after Draco learned what it felt like. It explained why he hadn't sensed her until she had transformed.

"How did you know about Harry's wedding?" Granger asked, her eyes flying to meet his.

Draco's heart skipped as he realized the information he had accidentally revealed. His pulse began accelerating again; his hands itched and grew warm.

"And don't think I didn't notice you failed to answer my question about how you found me today," Granger said angrily. "You went to Harry's wedding, too? Were you _looking_ for me?"

Beside Draco, Theo started to shift out of his seat. Draco slammed a hand down onto Theo's shoulder to keep him in place. He quickly removed his hand when Theo's jumper started to smoulder. Granger's eyes flew open.

"Malfoy," Granger began, her narrowed gaze fixed on him in a predatory manner now, her entire body tensed. "Why were you – a Veela – looking for me?"

Draco carefully pressed his hands together, willing the heat to disperse. He felt his pheromones rolling off him: the need to protect, feeling the threat to his mate. Never mind that _he_ was the perceived threat.

"My Veela heritage began to manifest just under two months ago, on my birthday, June fifth," Draco began as nonchalantly as possible. His hands grew warmer and he was careful to keep them away from the wooden table. His shoulder blades itched and Draco pressed his eyes shut, willing the wings to stay put.

"Malfoy," Granger whispered, her eyes glazed. " _What_ are you doing to me?"

"Damnit," Draco muttered, feeling himself losing control. He attempted to reign in the pheromones. Beside him, Theo looked nervous, as if debating whether he might need to restrain Draco.

Granger blinked, some of the light returning to her eyes. She shook her head, shifting in her seat as if she were about to leave.

"Granger," Draco murmured, meeting her eyes. He didn't want to know what she saw there. He clenched his hands into tight fists, attempting to keep the fire at bay. "I found you through the call – the mating call."

"No way," she said quickly. Her eyes flickered to his hands. She shook her head again, slowly, in disbelief. " _No way_."

"It's true," Draco grit through his teeth. "You're my mate."

"I am not," she hissed, her eyes flashing. "Nice joke, Malfoy."

She rose to leave and Draco stood as well, unable to stop the pheromones that were now pouring off him in thick, heavy waves. Granger stared at him, her lips parted, and she swallowed heavily. She took a step around the table toward him, her gaze falling on his mouth.

Draco simply stared, feeling her proximity somewhere deep in his soul, in his racing heart.

"Draco," Theo snapped. Draco tore his eyes from Granger to glare at Theo for interrupting. Like a bucket of water had been thrown on him, the pheromones were swept away. Draco realized the whole pub had been staring at him and his breath hitched as he turned back to Granger, who was scowling deeply at him.

"Do not _ever_ do that to me again," Granger hissed, raising a finger to jab his chest.

Draco caught her wrist with his hand, still blazing hot and glowing, and Granger cried out, as if expecting to be burnt. His blood roared in his ears at the contact. But Granger instantly relaxed. Fire to protect his mate; never to harm her.

"I do not choose who my mate is," Draco whispered quickly, holding her gaze, "and I did not expect in a million years it would be you." He ran a thumb over the pulse point in her wrist, swallowing at the heady contact. Out of his periphery, Draco noticed Theo walk to the bar to clear their tab and was thankful for the privacy. "But I will care for you, I will protect you with my _life_ , and I will give you the fucking _world_ , Granger."

"You're serious," she breathed, as if finally understanding.

He only quietly repeated, "You're my mate." Draco brought her wrist near his face, inhaling the sweet scent of her, his eyes fluttering shut.

But when he opened them again, Granger was looking at him in horror. She ripped her wrist from his hand and backed away.

"You need to find someone else," she murmured, eyes squeezed shut. "I cannot be your mate. Do not come looking for me again. If you come to my forest, I will _maul_ you on sight."

Her eyes met his again, long enough to convey the threat, before she was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to read, follow, and especially review this fic. I'm always incredibly nervous posting a new piece, so the warm support is so lovely. I hope you enjoy this chapter xoxo

Alpha love to the fabulous Kyonomiko.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 _ **July 30, 2002**_

Draco was struggling. He rather thought "struggling" was a mild term, given the almost constant, all-encompassing _need_ that had overtaken him since he had realized Granger was his mate.

He couldn't sleep, couldn't think, couldn't work. His veins ran with fire, his wings were constantly on the verge of making themselves known, and he had almost burnt the flat down three times in as many days.

Having felt the rush of Granger's skin, her blood so near, Draco couldn't tolerate even being near to anyone else, let alone being touched. He was afraid to even visit his mother or stand too close to Theo.

After one disastrous day of brewing, Draco had owled in sick the following two days, unable to even fathom the thought of being productive. On the second day, Master Herrero had owled to suggest they suspend Draco's apprenticeship until he sorted out the situation with his mate. Draco had gratefully accepted.

Theo had become more nocturnal than usual, though Draco wasn't certain that was entirely because of him. He seemed to be supportive as ever, and had taken the incidents with fire better than Draco had expected. But Draco could only imagine how irritating he had become.

As much as he wanted to respect Granger's wishes to leave her alone – Draco couldn't fight the need to see her. He had stopped himself a dozen times from Apparating to her forest, though his senses had gone so wild he wasn't certain she hadn't relocated.

The faint thread he had latched onto the day he originally discovered she was his mate had taken up permanent residence at the front of his mind, pushing, driving him to seek her out.

Draco didn't know how much longer he would last.

There was another presence in his mind, demanding she give him a chance to prove himself. She had hardly even listened to him before she had threatened him with bodily harm and left.

Draco knew as well as anyone the animosity that had existed between them at school. A rivalry which ultimately drove them to opposing sides of a war. He understood perfectly well her reticence.

But now that his Veela heritage had awoken, Draco also knew he would do anything for her. She could not imagine in her wildest dreams, ever meeting someone who would treat her better. His heart longed to show her, almost as much as his body yearned to claim her.

From Draco's research on the topic, he knew he would have a limited window for his mate to accept him – and this mania would only grow worse as time passed without her.

The research had been inconclusive, however, but Draco could ascertain he would have somewhere in the range of three to six months before his Veela side would go over the edge and vanish, taking Draco's human soul with it.

Draco didn't relish the thought – he also didn't look forward to the desperation that would go along with such hopelessness.

He _needed_ to persuade Granger to give him a chance. A proper chance. And then if she still wouldn't accept him, Draco would go quietly. He recognized that her happiness and her acceptance was paramount and would ultimately override any other human instincts at survival.

Without his mate, life would grow dull. Food would taste like ash. Colour would fade from the world. And then… he would go.

Maybe Draco would ask Theo to turn him into a vampire and they could steal through villages at night, living as outlaws, claiming whatever they wanted.

But if Draco's Veela somehow survived the transition, Draco would simply be dooming himself to an eternity of missing his mate, the longing so painful he would wish for death that would never come.

No, if Granger truly didn't want him, Draco would accept death.

But _not_ today.

* * *

Hermione paced through the brush, as she had been doing for three days. She hadn't dared transition to her human form since she had seen Malfoy and Nott at the pub in Gloucester.

No matter how much she thought about it, Hermione couldn't figure out Malfoy's angle.

This could all be one elaborate joke, but why? And how would he have discovered her, Apparating directly to her area of the forest despite the heavy wards she had in place? _No one_ should have been able to find her, let alone Apparate directly in.

He clearly had some strange magic. She had seen the way his hands had burnt Nott's jumper, but when he had touched her, his skin was cool and reassuring. If she was honest, his touch had sparked something deep within her she had been unable to shake.

And he had done something else, at the pub. She had been caught, enraptured, in his energy. She had _wanted_ to be nearer, to touch him. The very thought now nearly made her retch.

The only conclusion she could reach was that he truly was a Veela, as he'd claimed. It aligned with what she knew on the topic; his fair hair and complexion, his – she supposed – good looks. And she knew Veela gave off powerful pheromones, and were prone to selecting a mate for life.

Hermione also knew Veela were dedicated and compassionate toward their mates. But if she _was_ his mate – a truly laughable thought – she would first have to accept him. Or what – she couldn't remember. And she didn't exactly have access to a library as a lion.

Perhaps he would die? The thought had been stirring uncomfortably in the pit of Hermione's stomach.

Maybe he had changed, maybe he hadn't. Presumably, if she _was_ his mate, the Veela instincts would override his need to insult her at every turn. Perhaps he was tolerable under the right conditions.

But with her curse – there was no way she could accept him into her life. Not without dooming herself. The Witch Doctor has probably foreseen this – she imagined he'd have had quite the laugh at her expense.

And she somehow doubted Malfoy would want a lion for a mate.

But how could she condemn him to death?

Hermione continued to pace through the brush.

* * *

Draco grit his teeth, trying to shove back the impulsive urges crashing over him, wave after wave, pushing him to find his mate.

He suspected, having experienced the drive before, a simple Apparition would take him exactly where he needed to be.

But he didn't doubt Granger would follow up with her threat to maim him if he showed up in her forest. And he knew she was in her lion form; she would attack first, and ask questions never, since he would be dead.

If he grew desperate enough, Draco supposed it would be one assured way to go out. Though most certainly not the cleanest or the least painful.

Draco clenched his fists, feeling the fire rise to the surface of his palms. He tried to steady his breathing, but the pounding of his heart, the roar of his blood through his skull, only grew.

Theo was asleep as usual; Draco ordinarily tried not to ask too many questions about what Theo did when he was out every night. All that Draco concerned himself with was the fact that Theo wasn't actively killing or turning anyone.

Draco could _feel_ her, with every fibre of his being. It was almost as if he could feel her emotions, so painfully connected to her as he had become.

He needed to see her, consequences be damned. The longing slammed through him as jolts of physically manifested pain.

"Fuck," he hissed through his teeth, fighting the urge to rip out his own hair.

He wouldn't even have to try to Apparate, so strong was the demand pressing in on him. He would simply need to let go and he would find her.

He cast a glance to Theo's closed door. Theo had always been a good friend.

But Draco couldn't even pick up a quill to write Theo a letter, his hands were shaking so badly. And the quill would probably have burst into flames, anyway, if he even tried.

Theo would figure it out, if Draco never returned. If Granger sliced him open on sight.

His eyes fluttered shut as he gave in.

* * *

Draco arrived at the Forest of Dean once more. Apparently Granger had not chosen to relocate.

She was near, he knew, because his senses, previously raging out of control, had quieted, as if in anticipation. His Veela realized he couldn't approach Granger if he were hissing and slathering like a feral beast. Instead the creature within him was languidly stretching. Draco clamped down on the instinctive pheromones which began surging out, searching for her.

Granger had _not_ been pleased the last time he had allowed them out around her.

Tuning into his senses, Draco focused his keen smell and hearing in an effort to find her. If for no other reason than to know she was coming if she was going to attack.

He followed her feline scent, stalking carefully into the forest toward where her cave was located. Draco was pleased with his silent footfalls as he walked.

He could feel her, and he knew she had found him. Draco suspected he might have already been dead if she planned to follow through with her threat.

Cautiously, he raised his hands as if in surrender.

"I know you told me not to come," he murmured in a low voice, eyes darting through the trees. "And if you're going to attack me, please do it quickly. But know that I won't – _I can't_ – hurt you. So I cannot defend myself. I just… needed to see you."

A paw smacked the ground behind him, rustling the leaves and twigs in the underbrush. Draco turned on the spot, slowly.

The lion stood, crouched on her haunches, her large eyes narrowed. A low growl rumbled from her throat.

"I _know_ , Granger," he murmured, imploringly, running a hand through his hair. "It's so bloody far from ideal. If I could help it, I'd leave you alone." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Can you transform? Please?"

The lion paced forward, every sinewy movement screaming power. The cat walked right up to him and Draco felt his heart pounding, still unsure whether she was going to attack.

Carefully, keeping his hands before him, Draco crouched on his heels in front of the lion. The large, brown eyes gazing at him were the only concession to the fact that she was a human in a lion's body.

He could detect her scent, faintly – the scent that had drawn him in. But it was largely covered by the wild scent of her feline form.

With a warning growl, the lion dropped into a seated position. His brow furrowed, Draco reached a hand to rest on her muzzle, stroking the soft fur of her face. For a moment – so quickly Draco might have imagined it – he thought he heard the lion purr, her face nuzzling into the palm of his hand.

But then a snarl ripped from her throat so fast that Draco recoiled, snatching his hand back.

"If you mean to kill me, then so be it," Draco breathed, holding the lion's chocolate gaze. "But I can't simply leave you alone."

The lion growled again, pacing away from him. Draco felt the loss of her closeness as a physical blow.

Then suddenly Granger was standing in the lion's place, shaking her head, and Draco's senses were assailed with her human presence.

"You're serious, aren't you?" she snorted, even as she stared, wide-eyed. "Get up, Malfoy."

"I've never been more serious," he sneered, attempting to wrangle his senses as he stood.

"Okay, I believe you're a Veela," Granger admitted, shrugging. "But I meant what I said – you're going to have to find a different mate."

"It doesn't work that way," Draco ground through his teeth. "I don't just select someone."

"Have you tried?" she asked, scathingly.

"The thought of anyone else is repulsive," he said shortly, running a hand through his hair as he shuddered. "The thought of _touching_ someone else –"

"Fine," Granger murmured. "But you're going to have to figure something out. I'm cursed, remember?" Then as if on cue, she rolled her eyes and asked, "What goes up when the rain comes down?"

Draco pondered briefly, then said, "An umbrella." A flash of something that might have been gratitude flickered in Granger's eyes. "Do you think I give a fuck that you ask riddles, Granger?" He smirked, his eyes flickering to hers. "It's cute."

"The riddles, the lion – it's only part of the curse." She frowned, her eyes flashing. "The rest of it I don't intend to share with you, but all you need to know is that my life cannot involve you."

"Then I'll die," Draco said, surprised at how matter-of-fact he said the words.

"Is that how it works, then?" Granger asked, but her tone was softer, her eyes apologetic. "I couldn't remember. But the curse – I can't be with you. Even if I _wanted_ to, which, quite frankly, I don't." Her brow furrowed and she twisted her lips. "But I don't… I don't want you to _die_." Her voice broke on the last word.

"I will lay down my life for your happiness, health and safety," Draco vowed, taking a step closer. Granger chewed her lower lip as she stared at him.

"I spent a year trying to get out of this curse," she informed him. She hesitated. "The curse is to last one thousand days, under a certain set of conditions. But if I fail – and accepting to be your mate _would_ count as failing – the curse will haunt me until I die."

Draco tilted his head as he considered her words. "And how many days remain?"

"I lose track out here," she shook her head. "But if I follow the conditions, the thousand days ends on March 11th, 2003."

Draco felt his heart sink. It was nearly eight months away. He forced a smile, trying to dispel the worry on her face. He knew she felt nothing for him, other than a heavy conscience at the thought of being responsible for his death. He couldn't bear the thought of her being sad.

"It's more important to me," Draco murmured, gazing at his mate's beautiful face, "that you break your curse. You'll have other chances to find someone who might make you happy."

His smile faltered as he backed away, even as his heart shattered at the mere thought of her with anyone else. _No one_ could ever treat her like he would.

Ignoring every one of his Veela senses, Draco took another step back, wanting to memorize the lines of her face, the exact shade of her eyes.

Because Draco had no intention of suffering for the next six months, of struggling with the madness drawing him to her. She had very clearly stated she would not accept him – _could_ not accept him – and Draco had to respect her decision. He didn't know the details of the curse but he didn't need to beyond that. She was the most important thing to him, after all, and he retained his humanity enough that he would _never_ force her.

Draco wanted to damn his Veela heritage for showing up, for putting his mate in such a difficult position – but if it had never manifested, he would never have had a chance to understand how beautiful – how utterly perfect – she was.

Granger was staring at him, her lips parted, lost for words. Draco so badly wanted to taste her lips, just once. But he held his ground.

"I won't bother you again," he murmured, pressing his lips together in what he hoped was a convincing smile. But Draco knew she could see it in his eyes, so he whispered, "Goodbye, Granger."

As if breaking from a spell, Granger stumbled forward, reaching a hand toward him.

But Draco squeezed his eyes shut, branding her face on his eyelids, and Apparated away.

He landed in his flat, and even the Veela was subdued, numb with shock. Draco dragged himself into his room and collapsed into his bed.

He wouldn't cause Granger any more pain or indecision. He would visit his mother, explain the situation to Theo, and set everything in order.

The rest… Draco would figure out the rest later.

He slipped into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Hermione was in a panic. She had resorted to pacing, once more, forgetting to even transform back into her lion.

She had seen it in his eyes – she had denied accepting him as her mate, and Draco Malfoy had gone quietly into the woods to die, so to speak. She didn't understand the depth of control the Veela had over the prat she had known from school, but Hermione _couldn't_ be responsible for his death.

It really wouldn't that bad, she supposed desperately, to be the mate of a Veela. He would never stray, never intentionally hurt her; he would treat her like gold. That much she knew, despite knowing little else about the man Malfoy had grown into.

She could certainly do worse.

And that wasn't even a consideration, because he would _die_ if she didn't accept him. And by the looks of things, he didn't intend to wait until the bitter end took him. If it had only been three days and he hadn't been able to keep himself away; she couldn't imagine what months would do to him.

Accepting Draco Malfoy was above and beyond the only option, when the alternative was that she would be responsible for his death. How cold, how callous she would have to be, to sentence him to death over a youthful rivalry.

But the curse. She had to remain _alone_ – and Hermione was quite certain that being the mate of a Veela would violate that condition. And obviously, Malfoy wasn't looking for a lion as his mate. She didn't know if she would be able to return to her human form if the curse became permanent, or what would happen at all.

She buried her face in her hands. He wasn't even that bad. No one had ever understood or accepted her riddles. He not only knew the answers to all of them, he had smirked at her and called them _cute_ , and his sparkling grey eyes had warmed his face in a way she had never seen.

Hermione stomped her feet, ending her ceaseless pacing. There had to be a way – something she was missing.

For now, she would simply find Malfoy, attempt to explain the details – not that she knew many of them, as she had woken up in the middle of the wilderness after her ill-fated visit with the Witch Doctor, no hut in sight.

But it could quell the urgency. He clearly had _some_ time, but evidently not enough to wait until the curse ended in March of the following year.

Hermione needed to convince him to hold on.

If there was something yet that could be done – she would do it. If it meant saving his life.

But she didn't have a clue where he lived. She would have to break into the Ministry records.

Rummaging for her wand, she cast a disillusionment charm on herself. Then cursing the whole situation foully under her breath, Hermione took a deep breath and Apparated from her self-imposed isolation into the heart of London.

* * *

Two hours, and a number of tight situations in which she had nearly mauled several ministry employees later, Hermione pounded aggressively on the door of a flat in a building in an upscale London neighbourhood. She would never have imagined Malfoy to live in a flat in London.

There was no answer, and feeling the panic rise in her chest once more, Hermione knocked louder still.

The door swung inward, and Nott stood in the doorway, grumbling incoherently with a hood pulled far over his face. Even in the shadows, Hermione could see his eyes were bloodshot.

But his eyes widened when he saw her, and he quickly glanced behind him.

"Is Malfoy here?" Hermione asked, feeling suddenly timid. What in the name of Merlin was she going to say to him?

"Don't know," Nott said sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. He was staring rather unnervingly at her throat. "Asleep, wasn't I?"

"Can you check?" Hermione pleaded, fighting the urge to shift on her feet. She tensed, ready to turn in the event the vampire before her tried to attack.

Nott shrugged, gestured to a couch in what appeared to be a sitting area, and then vanished down the hallway.

Hesitantly, she sat down on the edge of the cushion and waited, chewing her tongue. The riddles always came less frequently when she was distracted.

"He was asleep." Nott had returned. "He told me to tell you, it's fine, and to please leave."

"I'm not leaving," Hermione said, jumping to her feet. "I need to speak with him. It's very urgent, please."

"The fuck did you do?" Nott said, folding his arms across his chest. "Don't tell me you fucking rejected him."

Hermione bit her lip as she pondered Nott's predatory stance. His eyes narrowed and teeth bared at her silence; Hermione could see his razor-sharp canine teeth and instinctively took a step back.

"Do you realize what you've done?" Nott hissed, advancing. "Don't you fucking _realize_ , rejecting him is a death sentence!"

"Yes!" Hermione exclaimed, desperately, "and if it weren't for this curse –"

"I don't give a _fuck_ if you ask him riddles for the rest of your fucking lives together –"

Hermione darted around Nott, grateful that some of her animal proclivities lingered when she was in her human form, and ran down the hallway from which Nott had returned.

Glancing behind her to see if Nott was following, Hermione collided painfully with something solid in the hallway. Choking on a breath as the air was slammed from her lungs, Hermione found herself in front of Malfoy, as his hands came to her shoulders to steady her, then quickly let go.

"What are you doing here?" he muttered. He looked paler, more ragged, than he had been only hours before. His blond hair was limp and lank, his grey eyes dull.

"I had to explain," Hermione said quickly, trying to meet his eyes, but he looked away. She wondered if, even now, the rejection was taking a physical toll. If maybe his Veela was already giving up. "Don't do anything rash."

"I told you," he murmured, "your life means more to me than mine does."

"And I'm not going to stand by and watch you die, Malfoy," she hissed, and he finally looked at her. "I can't accept this now, but I'm going to explain it to you. And just maybe – something can be done."

Malfoy simply stared at her, coolly appraising.

"How long do you have?" she breathed, fully aware of how close he was. She began to sense his Veela again, felt the tentative reach of his pheromones.

"Before you rejected me as your mate," he choked, as if the word was physically painful. Maybe it was. "I thought I had three to six months. But now… it feels like it won't be very long at all."

Indeed, his breathing seemed shallow. Hermione's eyes stung.

"If there is something I can do," she breathed, meeting his eyes, "some way out of this mess… I'll accept it, okay?"

Malfoy raised a brow, looking skeptical.

"I want you to break your curse," he said. "And if you can't do that _and_ accept me… don't choose me. You don't owe me anything, Granger."

"If there is something to be done," she repeated simply. "But if I can't break the curse, you won't have me anyway."

"Can I help?" he murmured, pressing his hands together. Hermione thought she saw a faint spark of life return to his eyes and hoped that meant the Veela was rejuvenating.

"I don't know," Hermione said, shaking her head. "But you can try. I – " She ground her teeth and he smirked, staring intently at her, waiting. "Until I am measured I am not known, yet how you miss me when I have flown."

Malfoy stared at her for a long moment, swallowing. "Time."

"Should we talk?" she asked, glancing at the open door behind him. She didn't love the idea of having to deal with Nott again.

"Not in my bedroom," Malfoy said with a half-smile. "That doesn't feel like a good idea."

"Right," Hermione mumbled, a flush rising to her cheeks. "Of course." She turned and walked back to the sitting room, acutely aware of Malfoy close behind her.

Nott, it seemed, had gone back to sleep and Hermione exhaled a sigh of relief. She hesitantly took a seat on the couch and Malfoy dropped into the cushion beside her, maintaining a safe distance.

"So," he prompted quietly, fidgeting with his hands, "why don't you tell me about your curse?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read and review this story. It appreciate it so much I can't express. I hope you continue to enjoy as we dig a bit deeper into this story.

Thanks to Kyonomiko for talking through SO much of this with me.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 _ **August 1, 2002**_

Draco sat at his kitchen table, idly drawing patterns on a sheet of parchment to calm his nerves while he waited.

Even days later, his head spun with the information Granger had shared with him.

That she had sought out this Witch Doctor, hoping he would help save her parents, but he had instead cursed her with a compulsion to spit riddles, forcing her to remain in her animal form, along with some nonsense about learning humility. But the worst – she must remain alone for one thousand days.

The exact wording was vague, and Draco understood why the thought of even spending time with him would make her nervous. He thought the curse itself sounded ridiculous, and suspected this Witch Doctor was perhaps mentally unstable.

If it meant waiting for her until March, Draco would do it – the only problem with that was that his veela side would have taken him into death by then.

And until then, Draco would cling to the shred of hope she had given him: that if they could find an answer, she would accept the bond.

Because she also didn't know what would happen if she violated the conditions by accepting him now. Whether she would feel compelled to ask riddles for the rest of her life, or if she would simply one day turn into a lion and never turn back. Or whether there was some other consequence altogether.

The former wouldn't bother Draco, as he had recently learned he was rather adept at riddles. But the latter would be frustrating indeed.

When Draco had suggested he would be willing to search out the Witch Doctor _himself_ and explain the situation she had merely chuckled nervously and wished him luck.

Draco was stirred from his thoughts by a knock at the door. He stood, straightening his tie and smoothing the non-existent wrinkles from his shirt.

Draco had mentioned, after she had shared her story with him, that he would help her with research and she had instantly paled. Remembering she preferred to avoid people, Draco had stared at her for a long moment, chewing his tongue, before suggesting he take her to the library at Malfoy Manor.

It was certainly a better resource than the paltry library at the Ministry – but the way she had froze and tried not to show her terror at the thought had Draco immediately wanting to retract the idea.

The last time Granger had been to Malfoy Manor she had been tortured in the drawing room by his aunt, and the last thing Draco wanted was to force her to relive those memories.

He hadn't even wanted to discuss it with her at the time, but he supposed if they did find a solution and she accepted the bond, there would be a lifetime of clearing the air ahead of them.

But surprisingly, she had agreed.

Draco opened the door, and instantly his heart rate sped up at the sight of her. Granger hovered in the doorway, dressed in a nice purple jumper and Muggle jeans and she looked far more put together than she had been when he had seen her in the forest.

He had to consciously force himself not to stare too long and to keep his hands at his sides.

"Granger," he murmured in greeting, stepping out of the doorway so she could enter. "Would you care for tea?"

"Thank you," she said curtly, fidgeting with her sleeve as she entered the flat, "but perhaps we should start with the research, do you think?"

"You look lovely," Draco blurted, staring at her wide-eyed. "Your hair – I like your hair that way."

Grange raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. "Yes, well, when I spend long periods of time as a lion, a proper shower is difficult to come by. I tend to… you know, bathe in the stream."

"And you managed a shower," Draco said warmly, nodding, even as he wished he could stop talking. He was meaning to sound considerate but suspected his attempts were coming across as patronizing.

"I went to my parents' old house," she explained quietly. "I generally avoid it, you know, but since we're going to Malfoy Manor –" she paused, cutting herself off. "Are your parents going to be there?"

Draco blinked, his brow furrowing as he stared at her. She must have been incredibly cut off in Australia, and then living in the forest as a lion for a year.

"My father's in Azkaban," Draco murmured softly, "and Mother prefers to stay with my aunt Andromeda most of the time. She won't be at the Manor." Draco scratched the back of his head as Granger frowned. "Probably for the best, to be honest. She doesn't know I've found my mate yet, and she likely won't take kindly to the situation."

"The situation being my curse," Granger deadpanned, narrowing her eyes at him.

Draco raised his hands in defense. His throat felt incredibly dry as he said quietly, "The situation being the fact that I could very well be dead within six months."

Granger's expression instantly softened. "I would take that tea if not for the fact that we ought to go." She chewed her lower lip for a moment before offering Draco a tentative smile. "But let's make a stop."

Granger awkwardly held her hand out, palm up, and a breath hitched in Draco's throat at the thought of touching her hand.

Draco carefully slid his hand into hers, doing his best to ignore the waves of pleasure that broke out from the touch of her bare skin, the urge to bring her closer. He wondered if Granger could hear the pounding of his heart.

Her eyes met his for a brief moment; she let out a deep breath and Draco wondered if just maybe, she felt it too. Then she tightened her grip and Apparated them both from the flat.

Hermione quickly released Malfoy's hand, trying to shake off the tingling of her skin where it had touched his. Her heart was racing and she took a step away; his expression betrayed nothing. She wondered if he was dosing her with his pheromones again, or if it was even something he could control.

They'd arrived in an alley and Hermione led him the half a block to their destination. His eyes widened at the harsh, neon lighting, the bustle of people, and the loud whirring of machines behind the counter.

"What is this place," he muttered under his breath.

"It's a coffee shop," she replied, meeting his soft tone as they joined the queue. "You can order tea and they'll put it in a paper cup so you can bring it with you."

"I'm familiar with coffee," he murmured with a nod. His eyes flickered to the large menu boards overhead. "Those are all different coffees?"

"Most of them are specialty beverages," Hermione explained. "Try something – it's on me."

"Nonsense," he said, waving a hand as he rummaged through his book bag. "I'll get it."

"They don't accept galleons, Malfoy," she deadpanned. He halted, chewing his tongue as he glanced back at her.

"Fine," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Next time, then." His eyes scanned the menu again as they advanced in line. "What are you getting?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond just as the man ahead of them in line shifted and briefly caught Hermione's eye. Huffing out a sharp breath, she asked, "Voiceless it cries, wingless flutters, toothless bites, mouthless mutters. What is it?"

"Pardon me?" the man questioned, looking as if he thought she were mad.

"Think it through, please," she said, gritting her teeth, even as she clenched her hands into fists. As the man continued to stare blankly, Hermione winced at the feel of her claws extending from her fingers into her palms, her shoulders tensing.

She felt her cheeks flush, utterly embarrassed, especially in front of Malfoy. Coming here was a bad idea. She would need to leave.

"I don't know what you –" the man said.

"It's the wind, mate," Malfoy said easily, his grey eyes meeting hers as he nudged her with a shoulder. The man huffed and rolled his eyes, stepping up to the counter to place his order. Malfoy was still staring at her. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Hermione gasped as her fangs began to retreat, and she opened her hands.

"You're bleeding," Malfoy said, his brow furrowed with concern. He shook his head, understanding. "It happens that quickly?"

Hermione could only nod, feeling the hot sting of shame. She wished they weren't in a Muggle establishment so she could close the wounds.

With a quick glance around, Malfoy gathered her hands together and clasped them within his. Hermione felt a faint tingle in her palms as the wounds healed and her eyes widened as he released her hands.

"You can do wandless magic," she breathed. He shrugged.

"A little. Only since the transition began," he murmured. "I'm still learning to control it, but I suppose it's easier with you."

"Thank you," she said, sliding her clean hands into her pockets.

"Don't mention it," he said with a brief smile. The man ahead of them walked away, shooting a disgruntled look at Hermione. Malfoy stared at the man, unimpressed, brows high, and he quickly left.

They approached the counter, where a cheerful young woman asked their order.

"I'll have a salted caramel mocha, please," Hermione said, meeting Malfoy's gaze with a small smile. He turned to the barista, his eyes wide.

"I will have an iced peppermint white chocolate mocha, thank you," he said stiffly, reading from the board.

"Good choice," Hermione murmured and his eyes followed her movements as she handed the cashier a paper note to pay for their drinks.

"Thanks," he said shortly as they stepped aside to wait, and then made their way back to the Apparition point. Malfoy looked uncomfortable as he sipped his drink through the straw, then his eyes widened. "This is quite good."

"Told you," she said absently, carefully opening the lid on her own drink to let the steam escape.

"Are you ready?" Malfoy asked, staring at her. Hermione bit her lip and forced a nod, to which he raised a brow. "You don't have to, you know. I can't imagine…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "I wouldn't want to go back there, if I were you. As it is, I rarely go there."

"It's alright," Hermione said, pressing her lips together in what she hoped came across as a smile. "Just… if we could avoid that room."

"Of course," he said quickly. "It's been renovated, anyway. You wouldn't recognize it."

"Really?" she asked, glancing at him as they arrived back at the Apparition point.

"Yes," he said quietly. "More happened in that room than I like to recall."

Hermione stared at him for a long moment, trying to determine whether he was being sincere or simply feeding her a line. But his eyes, the set of his brow – he was being honest. It wasn't something she was used to, and maybe she needed to accept the fact that he truly was trying.

"Okay, let's go," she breathed.

He took her hand, offered a pained sort of smile, and they were gone.

* * *

Draco released her hand when they arrived at the wide gravel drive leading to the wrought-iron gates of Malfoy Manor. The hedges, still impeccably groomed, rose tall on either side.

A pair of white peacocks strutted over to see what had happened, then turned and walked away again upon determining their arrival wasn't worth investigating.

Draco cast Granger a sidelong glance; she looked torn between fascination and discomfort.

"If you change your mind," he murmured, "just tell me."

Granger nodded, and took a step forward. Draco followed at a distance, allowing her the space she presumably needed to get accustomed to the fact that nothing here was going to harm her. Despite the fact that all he wanted to do was haul her off to the library and do depraved things to her. Those Muggle jeans were distracting him to no end.

Draco took a long sip of his beverage.

Granger halted before the iron gates, as if expecting something awful to happen.

"You're with me so you only have to push," Draco informed her nonchalantly. "Unless you're secretly here for a more diabolical reason – in which case I would turn and run."

Granger shot him an unamused look but her lips twitched even so. She reached out toward the gates and they swung open silently of their own accord.

In fact the entire grounds of the Manor appeared to be peaceful and quiet, the peacocks swaggering about and the extravagant fountain gurgling in the gardens the only sounds.

Draco still found himself surprised, sometimes, that the estate wasn't bustling with the comings and going of Death Eaters, even years after the war had ended.

Shaking off the memories, Draco followed Granger through the gates, and they swung shut behind him in an insidious manner. He took a step closer to the brunette as she approached the front doors.

"Who keeps the grounds and the gardens?" she asked quietly, gazing up at the towering doors.

"My mother likes to tend the gardens," Draco responded. "But the elves, otherwise. And when she isn't here." He rolled his eyes as Granger opened her mouth to speak. "They're treated perfectly well, I can assure you. And I'm not sure if anyone ever told you, but they actually _like_ their work. They see it an _honour_. Dobby was a bit of an anomaly because my father never treated him well, but the elves at Malfoy Manor are quite happy."

Granger slammed her mouth shut, her head tilting. "How did you know what I was going to say?"

"Granger, I don't think your elf freedom campaign at Hogwarts escaped anyone's notice," he said with a smirk. "And you can even ask the elves. They are provided with a generous monthly allowance for their own purchases. More than they usually spend."

Granger pressed her lips together but didn't push the topic.

"The doors are a bit more tricky," Draco informed her, taking her by the arm. "Blood wards – they won't recognize you alone. Although," he hesitated, thoughtful, "I wonder if they might accept you as my mate."

Granger chose not to respond. Draco cast a complicated bit of spellwork, and the doors swung open.

She stayed alongside Draco as he guided her through the house, her eyes wide. He finished his coffee beverage and vanished the empty cup; it had been tasty but overly sweet.

"I must admit, I wasn't entirely focused on the decor the last time I was here," she said softly. "It's quite lovely."

"The house has been here in Wiltshire, in some variation, since 1066 when my ancestor Armand Malfoy came to England with William the Conqueror," Draco explained, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep from touching her again, her scent assailing his olfactory senses. "Over the centuries, land was annexed from the nearby Muggles and modifications were made to the manor and estate."

"That's fascinating," Granger admitted. "I wish I knew the history of my family even half as far back."

"My ancestors were very diligent about leaving a written record," Draco said, frowning. "Even when they probably shouldn't have, if you understand my drift."

"I think I do," Granger said with a shudder. "I can imagine there were some unsavoury things recorded?"

"Unsavoury is a good word for it," Draco agreed mildly.

"So you must know where your veela heritage comes from?" Granger asked, stopping to examine a marble bust of a Malfoy patriarch from the seventeenth century.

"Yes," Draco said, "only, those records were actually rather poorly kept. The last Malfoy to demonstrate any veela characteristics at all was a man by the name of Tobias Malfoy in the mid-nineteenth century. But he really only experienced the call to mate. It was his great-grandfather who married a half-veela woman, integrating the veela blood into the Malfoy lineage."

"Your blood must be very diluted," Granger observed, falling back into step with him.

"Incredibly, actually," Draco said, running a hand through his hair. "Especially to be exhibiting the symptoms so strongly. Even Tobias Malfoy didn't experience many of the symptoms I've been discovering."

"Like – the fire?" Granger asked, almost hesitantly. "How does that work?"

"I'm not certain entirely," Draco admitted, "and it isn't as if I can just ask someone. It seems to show up when I'm angry or threatened. Or, like that day in the pub, overwhelmed. My hands heat up, and if I can't manage to get it under control… well, it's unpleasant."

"Sort of like turning into a lion and attacking someone, unpleasant?" Granger offered a small smile and Draco recognized the olive branch.

"That sort of unpleasant, yes," he murmured, grinning. "I have to ask – have you ever actually mauled someone?"

"Well, the first time it happened I was so surprised and very nearly, yes," she said, looking ashamed. "I clawed a man quite badly, and he needed to be hospitalized and Obliviated." She frowned, staring at the ground. "The year I spent in Australia trying to be rid of the curse – I spent much of that time in my lion form, afraid it would happen again. It made it quite difficult to make any progress."

"I can imagine," Draco said, turning the last hallway toward the library. "Well, here we are."

Granger's eyes widened and she turned to stare at him. Draco gestured she go ahead.

"What is the freedom of birds and the pen of men?" She shook her head at the absurdity of it. Draco stared at her, surprised, for a long moment. He frowned, shaking his head. " _Malfoy_ ," she ground out, her hands tensing.

"Feathers, Granger, honestly," he grinned. "If I don't even know one that simple, you have my permission to attack me."

Granger gaped at him, eyes wide. "You're terrible!"

"Right," he agreed, "haven't you met me?"

"I suppose I thought your whole veela mating thing would mean you'd be less likely to string me along," Granger said, mockingly disgruntled. Draco laughed and her eyes brightened at the sound.

"Honestly, I'm starting to realize the strength of it comes and goes," Draco said, chewing his tongue. "I always feel it, _especially_ when you and I are together. But there are times when the need is so great I can hardly function." He met her eyes, swallowing. "And there are times when I'm content just to be with you, if that makes sense?"

Granger turned to him, her brow furrowed, holding his stare. He saw her quick intake of breath, the shade of her irises as she gazed up at him through her lashes.

"And right now?" she asked, her tone light. Draco quickly clamped down on the pheromones rolling off him.

"Somewhere in between," Draco responded with a tight smile. He forced himself to take a deep breath and she blinked. "Presumably it's a product of the dilution in my blood. But that's only a guess, of course."

"Right," Granger breathed. She was still close enough Draco could taste her scent. It was taking all of his self control to keep from grabbing her. "When you said you would have three to six months… where did that come from?"

"Journals, first- and second-hand accounts," he murmured distractedly with a shrug, his eyes fixed on her mouth. "Why do you ask?"

"I only wonder if that length of time might vary depending on the strength of the veela inheritance," Granger murmured, biting her lip. Draco let out a shaky breath, wishing it was him biting her soft flesh. He very consciously kept his hands at his sides, then shoved them into his pockets again.

"What?" he asked, blinking as he remembered she'd spoken. He jerked his eyes up to meet hers again. "I've no clue. And it isn't necessarily something I want to experiment with, you know?"

"Are you alright?" Granger asked, her brow furrowing. "Your pupils are huge."

"Not sure," Draco choked out with a wince. "Maybe – you should take a step back. I can't, right now."

"Oh!" Granger exclaimed, stumbling away, shaking off the effects of the pheromones. "Of course. I'm sorry!"

"Don't be," Draco said with a harsh exhale. He removed his hands from his pockets and they were trembling. His shoulder blades itched. He tried to will them to remain hidden but his heart was pounding.

Granger's eyes flickered to his hands and they widened almost imperceptibly.

Draco did everything he could think of in an attempt to slow his breathing, to keep the wings from revealing themselves.

"Is this… fire?" Granger asked, her voice low. "Or something else?"

"Something else," he bit out, squeezing his eyes shut. Finally his breathing slowed, and the itch in his back began to retreat. He opened his eyes, meeting Granger's once more. "Sorry about that."

"What just happened?" she asked, making to reach for him and thinking better of it.

"I have wings," Draco said shortly, forcing a smile that he suspected looked more like a grimace. "And before you ask, I can't control them, and I have no clue why they sometimes appear."

Granger pressed her lips together, shaking her head in awe. "Wings," she breathed. "So you can fly?"

"Usually when they appear I'm too focused on making them _disappear_. I haven't tried," Draco said with a shrug. "But, we've arrived," he interjected, anxious for a diversion from the slight episode she'd witnessed.

"Right, of course," Granger said, her cheeks flushing a light pink.

With a tense nod, Draco swung the door to the library open and walked in with a decided lack of preamble, ignoring years of ingrained etiquette. He heard Granger's sharp intake of breath behind him but forced himself to keep walking, to put space between them.

But he turned when the second pair of footfalls behind him ceased, and Granger was staring at the shelves upon shelves of books with awe, her arms folded across her chest as if to stop herself from reaching for them all.

"Did you _live_ in here growing up?" she gasped, eyes wide. "I've never seen so many books."

"I did spend a lot of time here," Draco conceded. "You'll want to use a keyword sorting spell unless you're particularly fond of using ladders and doing things the hard way. You're welcome to borrow as many as you like, so long as you keep them protected. Some of these books are older than the house itself."

"Of _course_ I would protect them," she said, scandalized at the thought. She tilted her head, deep in thought. "I suppose I ought to start with curses, sphinxes, and some on veela as well."

"Why veela?" Draco asked, raising his eyebrows.

"In case we can find something that might help," she said simply. "And I suppose general curiosity as well."

Draco met her gaze for a moment and shrugged. "Whatever you like." Granger cast the sorting and Draco ducked as books came flying in every direction. "They'll compile here."

He led her to a bank of work tables where the books with keywords she had selected began lining themselves neatly on a shelf, sorted by relevance.

"This is amazing," Granger said, shaking her head as she stood with him, beyond the range of the flying books.

"So let me ask you something, Granger," Draco said, not looking at her. "You've been back in England for a year and the day I found you was the first time you transformed into a human? How do you explain that to Potter and Weasley?"

"They don't know," she said blandly, but her cheeks were pink again. "Ron and I haven't had much to do with each other since I left for Australia and he took it to mean I was leaving _him_. Harry and I owled while I was over there, with lessening frequency. I should think Luna takes up much of his time now. I reached out to _him_ when I saw the announcement of his wedding, because of the wards on my cave." She shrugged, hugging her arms across herself again. "I told him I wasn't feeling well when I left his wedding and he didn't question it."

"Do you miss him?" Draco asked, eyes flickering to her.

"Of course," she said dismissively. "Harry and I were together through everything. But the curse makes it hard to keep friends, you know? Not everyone is so understanding as you, and that's only because you have to be. And besides, most people are shite at riddles, or they don't know why I'm asking, and then..."

"I follow," Draco murmured. "I don't _have_ to be understanding, Granger, just so you know. The veela doesn't obliterate who I am just because it's selected you as my mate. It wants you to feel the same, obviously, through whichever means necessary. Hence, the pheromones."

"You can't control that?" she asked, turning to him.

"I'm learning to recognize it," Draco said with a shrug. "Naturally, as a veela, I emit a certain amount whether I'm eating dinner or walking down the street, or what have you. But when you're near, it's compounded. I don't want you to be influenced in that way, so I try to manage them."

"So do _you_ , as Draco Malfoy, feel differently than your veela?" She shook her head almost instantly. "I apologize, I don't mean to ask such prying questions. I'm just trying to understand."

"Not at all," he murmured, smirking. "I would have expected nothing less from you. I don't think it's possible to separate how the veela feels compared to how Draco Malfoy feels, because as soon as the veela awoke, we became two integrated halves of a whole. All I meant, before, was that I haven't simply given up who and what I was before, if that makes sense."

Draco hesitated, trying to put the thoughts into words.

"Like I told you in the woods, I don't think I ever would have consciously selected you for a partner, but the veela doesn't care about our past, or about the war, or blood status. Does that make sense?" he pursed his lips, turning to her. She nodded slowly. "My mate, inherently, is selected as the one with the best compatibility, and the best chance of passing on the gene. And compatibility naturally includes intellectual, emotional… physical." Draco looked away.

"Basic survival," she nodded. "I think I understand. So while you're part veela, you're still you."

"Yes," Draco agreed. "I can't explain it very well. Instinctively – and this would override anything I feel as a human – my purpose is to protect my mate. Whether that means dying for you... " he swallowed. "Or killing for you. I would."

"Aren't veela governed differently?" she asked, turning toward him. "I've heard of such cases where a veela claimed a life due to a legitimate threat to their mate."

"Yes," Draco said, hesitantly. "If the mate has been marked. Until then, the law applies as usual."

"I understand," Granger said softly, shifting on her feet. The last of the books were making their way onto the shelf and her eyes widened at the sheer quantity that had gathered.

Draco ran a hand through his hair, turning to meet her eyes. "Look Granger, for what it's worth… I'm sorry, for everything. For what you went through during the war, for how I made you feel in Hogwarts."

Granger's eyes widened and her brow furrowed in surprise. She stared at him for a long moment and then nodded. "I accept your apology," she said quietly. "And I apologize for dishing it out in return. I guess if we're going to be working together, and maybe more, it's best to just put everything behind us."

"Yes," Draco said, feeling a wave of relief. "I'd like that."

Granger offered him a small smile. "I suppose we ought to get started, then."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note _:_** Thank you as always to everyone who takes the time to read this story, and to those who follow, favourite, and especially those who leave such valuable words of encouragement. It really does help me to carry on writing. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Alpha love for this story goes to Kyonomiko. Be sure to check out her wonderful new WIP, Looking Glass.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 _ **August 9, 2002**_

Hermione sat cross-legged on the floor of her cave, a quill between her teeth and various pages of notes spread out in front of her, her eyes darting rapidly across the lines of text.

The entirety of the cave floor was ordinarily covered in an eclectic mess of blankets, pillows and dried grasses; lately it had been topped with notes and books. The dim lighting from the multiple strings of burnt-out fairy lights she had scrounged from a village, and filled with small points of light, gave the cave an ethereal feeling.

It had been so long since she had had a proper library to utilize – so long she had wondered so many things and been unable to seek answers. She was actually quite grateful to Malfoy for offering unlimited access to the Malfoy library.

Hermione had barely left her cave for a week, poring over countless texts, scrolls and journals, leaving only to exchange her books at his library.

But while she had spent so much time researching the situation, she had found remarkably little by way of answers, although she _had_ learned a lot about veela and sphinxes. Not that she was surprised – being cursed to ask riddles and transform into a lion was presumably an uncommon predicament to land in.

Malfoy had come by her cave a few times, and after he'd seen her the first time – slightly manic, hair tied into a messy bun with a quill rammed through it – he'd brought food each time thereafter.

He would research with her, or simply sit with her – and during the occasional break they would discuss things of little consequence.

Hermione had to admit – it was nice having someone around, after spending so much time on her own. But therein was the issue – she was meant to be alone. And she didn't know exactly how the curse measured _alone_.

But so far nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and as she had decided the second day Malfoy had visited her in the forest, she wasn't simply going to let him wither away if there was anything she could do about it. She suspected his visits did as much for his sanity as they did for her own. It was odd how quickly he had started to grow on her.

Hermione glanced up as the grasses outside her cave rustled, trying to keep a smile from gracing her features as his platinum blond head ducked through the mouth of the cave.

He grinned, brandishing a bag of food.

"Hi," Hermione said, setting her quill down and taking the bag, breathing the fragrance in deeply. It certainly beat the lean, gamey critters and rodents she had been subsisting on as a lion. She suspected he had assumed as much. "Thanks."

"No problem," he murmured, settling down on the ground beside her. "Anything new?"

"No," Hermione said, drawing a steaming bowl of soup and a spoon from the bag, magically kept hot. "You?"

"Not necessarily," he said, turning to her. "I sort of figured it wouldn't be worth mentioning, as it was probably one of the first things you tried, but have you been to a curse-breaker?"

Hermione paused, chewing her tongue for a moment.

"I haven't, actually," she admitted. "Though I've thought many times about it. I couldn't find any in Australia, and things were complicated enough over there without talking to too many people." She hesitated, inclining her head. "I guess by the time I came back to England, I was fairly well resigned to just waiting it out. Obviously, until you found me."

"It might help," Malfoy offered, his brow furrowed. "What's the harm?"

"I'm wet while drying –" she began, wincing.

"A towel, Granger, honestly," he interrupted. "Are your riddles getting easier?"

"Maybe," she shrugged, "I don't consciously think about them before they come out. And the harm – other than mauling potentially dozens of people?"

"Okay, you're exaggerating," he teased. "One – _two_ at most." He grew serious again. "What if I came with you? I could be your designated riddle-answerer."

"It isn't a bad idea," Hermione said, pondering the thought. "And I guess the more I've thought about it, the more I've come to terms with the fact that I'll need to look into it, at the very least."

"I'll see if I can track down a curse-breaker, and schedule a consultation," Malfoy said, pulling a warm roll out of the bag of food and biting into it.

"No need," Hermione said with a grimace. "I know one. _And_ – he happens to be married to a part-veela."

"Seriously?" Malfoy asked, agape. "Who?"

"Bill Weasley," Hermione said, pressing her lips together, waiting for him to react.

"Well," he said, finishing his roll and pressing his hands together. "That sounds like a meeting we ought to have, don't you think?"

"Yes," Hermione condeded. "If I write a letter will you owl it?"

"Absolutely."

* * *

Hermione lounged in a pile of pillows later that day, stretching languidly as she took a break from her seemingly endless research. Malfoy gazed around her cave, thoughtful, having returned from owling her letter to Bill and Fleur.

"Nothing against the decor," he said, "but why do you choose to live in a cave? Wouldn't you be fine to live as a human as long as you lived alone? The riddles only come when you're around others, right?"

"Right," she replied. "Why not a cave? Honestly, life is so much simpler as a lion. And if I had a flat, I'd have to get a job and pay rent and bills and be around people all day and –" she shuddered. "No thanks. I suppose I just thought once I was rid of the curse, then I could do all of that."

"Fair point," he said, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He stared at her for a long moment. "You know, you could come live with Theo and I. We have a spare bedroom. And I own the flat so you wouldn't have to pay rent."

Hermione nearly laughed aloud at the thought until she realized he was being serious. She chewed her lip as she gazed at him, seeing the honest vulnerability in his eyes. She swallowed, looking away.

"I think Nott would slay me in my sleep," she breathed, grinning. "Then you would feel obliged to seek revenge, and I don't want to be the reason you and your best mate try to kill one another, you know?"

She didn't want to admit that she was afraid of growing too close to him – too accustomed to having him around.

"He wouldn't dare," Malfoy said, rolling his eyes, but the flicker in his expression was gone, as if he knew she had been flippant with her response. "Besides, he goes out at night, and I don't ask what he does, but I know he's responsible. He usually comes home with bags of blood from St. Mungo's."

"How does he manage that?" Hermione asked, curious despite herself.

"He works there – worked," Malfoy corrected himself, then paused. "Works. I think he still works there. Not sure how he hasn't been fired given he hasn't worked a shift in months. He's messed with the schedule, I think, so they all believe he's working the other shift. Means he can swipe all the blood he wants, within reason."

"He's a healer?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Yes," Malfoy said, nodding. "He was the one to suggest I was coming into a veela inheritance when it first began. But he'd never seen the transition so he called in more experienced healers."

"How did he get turned into a vampire? Hermione pondered.

Malfoy shrugged. "He didn't share the details, and I didn't particularly want them," he said. "All I know is supposedly it was the night of his life."

"Noted," Hermione murmured delicately. Malfoy chuckled. "What about you? Do you have a job or are you so wealthy you don't need one?" She suppressed a smile at his scandalized expression.

"I have a job, thank you," he said, eyes mockingly wide. "I'm apprenticing for a potions mastery at the apothecary in Carkitt Market. But when everything went chaotic, Master Herrero offered to put the apprenticeship on hold. I told him when I came into my veela inheritance, of course. He's been more than reasonable."

"Oh," Hermione said, tilting her head. "That makes sense, I suppose. It doesn't surprise me you've gone into potioneering."

"Why's that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you were always quite good at it, weren't you?" she asked, brow furrowing as she looked at him.

He relaxed, leaning back against the wall. "I was expecting something more derisive."

"Ah," Hermione mused, smiling. "Like that you were Snape's pet or something along those lines."

"Something like that." His lips twitched. "But it was one of my best subjects in school, and I _did_ take a greater interest after Hogwarts."

Hermione dug through the bag of food he'd brought and selected a cauldron cake.

"What about you?" Malfoy asked, turning to her as she took a large bite of the confection. "Say you hadn't needed to go to Australia, and all this didn't happen. What was the plan for the most brilliant Hermione Granger?" His lips quirked into a smile.

"That's a bit of an ironic story," Hermione said, swallowing the bite of cake. "I always thought I wanted to work at the Ministry, in Creature rights." She snickered, picking at the dessert. "I guess I might as well consider _myself_ a creature at this point. Not to mention _veelas_ fall under the same category."

"Right," Malfoy mused, meeting her eyes. "Technically, I'm not even considered pureblooded anymore."

"It's absolutely ridiculous," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "The sort of thing I always wanted to fight against. But I suppose, after all this, and living in the wild… a desk job no longer appeals to me."

"What, then?" he asked, eyes aglow as he absently picked at the dried grasses poking between blankets. "If you could do absolutely anything, and none of this was a factor."

Hermione opened her mouth then closed it, eyes darting to his. She tilted her head, pursing her lips. "Honestly, Malfoy," she finally said. "I have no idea." She drew a towelette from the bag and washed her hands. "It isn't really something I've allowed myself to think too extensively on, since the curse took most of my other options away."

"Well," Malfoy said, and his smile grew sad, his brow furrowed. "You'll have to give that some thought then, won't you? _When_ you escape the curse – with or without me – you'll need options, hmm?"

His words left Hermione feeling cold.

 _ **August 14, 2002**_

Hermione fidgeted with her hands as she and Malfoy approached the front door of Shell Cottage. Hermione hadn't been to the small seaside home since the war, after they had escaped Malfoy Manor. She glanced up at the tall blond beside her; she hadn't deemed it important to share that detail with him. She knew he shouldered enough blame for everything that had happened.

And though it had been years since the war had ended, Hermione was still prone to the sting of those memories. She didn't know what all Malfoy had been through, but it was obvious the war had changed him as well.

Her eyes flickered to the small grave marker by the beach and her heart mourned the loss of Dobby, after his heroic actions that fateful day.

"You ready?" Malfoy asked, misreading her reticence. "There are other options… you know, if this doesn't pan out."

Hermione turned to her strange new companion and forced a smile. She could see the careful mask in place, but in his eyes was the quiet hint of desperation to which she had grown accustomed. She opened her mouth to assure him they would keep trying, if it didn't, but flinched instead.

"I am essential to life, yet I can take your breath away. I am both in you and around you," she breathed hopefully.

Malfoy stared at her for a moment thoughtfully and his gaze flickered to the sea, before responding, "Water." He absently lifted his hand to her back, his fingers trailing lightly along her spine, before dropping his hand again.

"Thanks," Hermione murmured, shivering at his touch. "I'm ready."

She rapped sharply on the door three times, unable to tear her eyes from his until the door swung open and she turned to see Bill Weasley in the door, his scarred face grinning down at her.

"Hermione! Wow, Merlin, it's been years!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around her briefly before pulling back. Beside her, Malfoy instantly tensed, his hands clenching. Hermione instinctively inched closer to Malfoy when Bill released her.

Bill's gaze flickered to Malfoy, his expression shifting with surprise and his mouth falling open. He took a careful step back from Hermione.

"Malfoy," he said, gaze darting between the two of them, shaking his head slowly. "Well this is interesting, isn't it?"

"Interesting is one word for it," Hermione quipped. Malfoy continued to glower beside her, and she gave the blond a nudge. Instantly his face relaxed as he turned to her.

"Your owl only said you needed help with a curse?" Bill asked, monitoring the two of them closely. "There isn't a way to break a veela bond, if that's what you're wondering about."

Malfoy turned back to Bill in surprise. "You know?"

"I married a veela," Bill said easily, shrugging. "I can see the signs. And clearly, Hermione is your mate. Why don't you two come in off the step? Fleur will like to meet you, I'm sure."

Hermione exchanged a look with Malfoy and he carefully followed her across the threshold into Shell Cottage. Bill gave her a reassuring sort of look as they walked.

"Fleur is just putting Victoire for a nap," Bill explained, gesturing to the kitchen table. "So let's discuss this curse? Like I said, the veela bond is considered to be some of the most natural magic – so while some humans subject to a veela bond may _view_ it as a curse –" Bill cracked a roguish grin. Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"The veela bond is _not_ the issue, as it turns out," Malfoy started delicately.

"I've been cursed, Bill," Hermione said softly. "A little over two years ago, in Australia. It's why I haven't… been around, much."

"Cursed?" Bill asked, his brow furrowed. "In what capacity?"

Hermione pressed her lips together and glanced at Malfoy. His smirk, surprisingly, made her feel more relaxed.

"I've been turned into an approximation of a sphinx," Hermione said, meeting Bill's nervous gaze. "Insofar as I can turn into a lion, I blurt riddles uncontrollably, and if someone can't answer, I have a terrible urge to eat them."

Bill blinked. He glanced suspiciously at Malfoy.

"It's true," the blond offered. "I've seen it. Getting quite proficient at riddles, too, if I do say so myself."

"A _sphinx_ ," Bill said slowly. "But a sphinx is just part human, part lion, all the time."

"Yes," Hermione said, flushing. "Not even a proper one, am I?"

"Okay, back up," Bill said, shaking his head. He ran a hand through his long red hair. " _How_ did this happen?"

"Right," Hermione said, letting out a long breath. "What are three keys that open no doors?"

"Keys?" Bill asked, exchanging a look with Malfoy. "Keys…"

"Oh, keys," Malfoy exclaimed. Hermione grimaced. "Er, monkeys?" Hermione nodded, clenching her hands into fists.

"Donkeys," Bill added quickly. She could feel her claws lengthening, shredding into her palms.

"Monkeys, donkeys..." Malfoy listed to himself.

"Please hurry," Hermione breathed. She could feel the transformation beginning, against her will. Desperately, she tried to fight it off.

The two men looked at one another again: Malfoy with apprehension, Bill with astonishment.

Hermione could feel fur sprouting across her body; Malfoy clenched his wand beside her. She jumped from her seat, preparing to run if they couldn't get the answer.

"Turkeys," Malfoy said suddenly.

With a great exhale of relief, Hermione re-took her seat. She pressed her lips together and avoided looking at anyone with a breathy, "Sorry about that."

Malfoy gazed at her for a long moment, before taking her hands into his, healing the open slices on her palms. She gave him a small smile of gratitude.

"That was interesting," Bill said under his breath, eyes wide. It threw his scars into sharp relief. "Doesn't leave a lot of time to think, does she?" He glanced at Malfoy.

"I've never heard her ask a riddle with a three-part answer," Malfoy replied, brows flickering.

Despite herself, Hermione relaxed at their bantering. "They're rare," she whispered, feeling the corners of her lips twitch.

"Well," Bill said, setting his hands on the table. "I believe you. But how did this happen?"

Hermione recounted the story with the Witch Doctor, scrounging deep in her memory for any detail that might help. When she got to the part about learning humility alone for a thousand days, Bill's eyebrows raised.

"Alone," Bill said, shaking his head. "Well that isn't going to work with him kicking around, is it?" He gestured to Malfoy who had the grace to shrug it off.

"That's the problem, isn't it?" Hermione asked. "My original plan was to just remain a lion until the end of the thousand days. Then _he_ came along."

Malfoy poked her in the shoulder with a long finger, his lips twitching with a genuine smile.

"When did you realize she was your mate?" Bill asked, turning to Malfoy.

"July twenty-seventh," he said after a moment. "Around two and a half weeks ago. By all accounts I've read, if the bond isn't accepted within six months at the most…"

Bill was nodding. "I can't say I understand that part. As soon as I learned about Fleur, well… I mean..."

"We get it," Hermione choked on a laugh. Malfoy grinned wickedly beside her.

"I wonder if there is a way to stasis the magic of the bond," Bill said thoughtfully. "What percentage veela are you? Quarter? Half?"

"Not even close," Malfoy said with a grimace. "It's very small. I shouldn't have manifested at all, let alone so strongly. None of the healers and magical creature specialists could believe it."

"I'll look into it," Bill said, scribbling an illegible note on a sheet of parchment on the table. Then he turned to Hermione. "I'll run some curse-breaking diagnostic spells on you, if you don't mind. A fairly standard battery of tests: strength of the curse, tests for dark magic, whether the curse has altered your natural magic… that sort of thing."

Swallowing, Hermione nodded. Malfoy squeezed her arm reassuringly. She hadn't even considered that the curse could have affected her core magic.

"Over here, if you would, Hermione," Bill said, gesturing to an open space in the sitting room.

Awkwardly, Hermione stood in place as Bill performed a number of tests and diagnostics, absently making notes on his scrap of parchment as he worked. Malfoy didn't take his eyes off her, his chin down and jaw clenched, and Hermione found herself suddenly relieved she wasn't facing this mess alone.

Even despite the fact that it would be _less_ of a mess if she were still alone.

Finally Bill stepped back, folding one arm across his chest while he ran the other down the length of his face, looking distraught.

Just then Fleur returned, holding her hands up in surprise. "We 'ave guests! 'Ermione, 'ow nice to see you!"

"Hello Fleur," Hermione said, allowing the other woman to embrace her. "So nice to see you, as well."

"Fleur, this is Draco Malfoy," Bill said, gesturing to Malfoy, who rose to greet Fleur.

"I remember you from 'Ogwarts," Fleur said with a demure smile on her face. She stepped toward Malfoy, as if to embrace him as well, when she suddenly froze, her gaze flickering from Malfoy, to Bill, to Hermione. She dropped her arms to her sides and Malfoy visibly relaxed. Fleur took a careful step back and seemed to express something to Malfoy. "You are most welcome, Draco Malfoy. It 'as been some time since we 'ave met another veela."

"Thank you," Malfoy said with a grin. "We very much appreciate your hospitality."

Fleur waved a hand and bustled off to make a pot of tea. If she had any questions with regards to what they were doing in her house, she refrained from asking.

"Well, Hermione, I'm not sure what to tell you," Bill said, as the two of them reclaimed their seats at the kitchen table. "You're definitely cursed, and it's strong. It is _not_ dark magic, which is good. But – and I hate to say this – the magic of the curse has adhered itself to your core magic."

"What does that mean?" Malfoy asked sharply.

"It means I don't know how to break it without affecting her magical spring," Bill said uneasily. "But it's strange; I can't tell the depth of it. It could be a simple fix that you'll never notice, or the case could be that your magic could be irrevocably damaged, Hermione."

"Damaged," she gasped, feeling her heartrate escalate. Instantly, Malfoy's hand grasped hers gently, giving her fingers a squeeze. She quickly entwined their fingers, grateful for his easy presence. "So if… say I don't manage to break the curse after a thousand days." Her eyes flickered to Malfoy and she could see both men understood.

"I can't say without more extensive testing," Bill said heavily, his brow furrowed. "But it would seem likely, that in some context, your magic will be affected."

Malfoy's hand went slack in hers; his jaw visibly clenched.

Fleur suddenly returned with a full tea service and poured four cups. Hermione felt her head spinning as she spooned sugar into her tea.

"Let me get this straight," she said, resting her head in her free hand as her brain whirred uncontrollably. "This curse has a hold on my magic until March. If I reach that point, and have been alone, we can only assume, without further clarification, the curse will release my magic and vanish."

"If those are the _strict_ parameters of the curse," Bill said, his tone and expression serious. "But Hermione, you need to realize, the wording around curses is incredibly specific. What concerns _me_ is the part about learning wisdom and humility. How exactly are you supposed to do that, if you only exist as a lion?"

"I don't know," Hermione breathed, feeling a surge of panic. She said, wincing, "What is the worst vegetable to have on a ship?"

Malfoy, having been uncharacteristically silent, merely blinked. Bill chewed his tongue and glanced at Fleur.

"A leek, of course," she purred, waving a hand. "But 'Ermione, zis does not feel like the proper time for riddles."

"You're right, Fleur," Hermione muttered, "it really isn't." She glanced at Malfoy for a long moment, who was staring stonily at his cup of tea. "Bill, what do you suppose will happen if the bond is accepted?"

Malfoy visibly started as he turned his gaze to her. He exhaled a long breath.

"He's already said, hasn't he?" Malfoy said quietly. "Your core magic will be damaged, for good."

His hand, still wrapped within hers, remained unresponsive.

"It's truly hard to say," Bill said, running a hand through his hair. "I don't mean to discourage either of you, but I don't want to feed you lies, either. It doesn't look good. If the bond is completed, it sounds as if the curse will become permanent. If the bond isn't completed…"

No one present needed him to finish that sentence.

"What are the symptoms of your manifestation?" Fleur asked, turning to Malfoy. "Other than the call to mate, of course."

"Throwing fire," Malfoy said flippantly, "wings, apparently, though I can't control those."

Fleur's eyes were wide. "Wings!" she exclaimed. "Which of your parents was a full veela?"

"Neither," Malfoy said with a shrug. "An ancestor of mine in the nineteenth century married a veela. My blood is incredibly diluted; It's a wonder I've manifested at all."

"I can't help but wonder," Bill said, sipping his tea, "whether the strength of your manifestation, borne from a descendant so many generations back, might suggest a stronger constitution than most veela. Whether you might, perhaps, be able to go longer without completion of the bond."

"I don't feel like it's something I'd like to risk finding out," Malfoy said shortly. "But I appreciate the consideration."

Fleur shot Bill a look. "I would not wish a prolonged delay of the mating process on my worst enemy," she purred. Then she looked contrite, her gaze turning to Hermione and Malfoy. "Sorry – I just 'ave 'eard it to be unpleasant."

"So have I," Malfoy said easily. "But surely you can understand, Fleur, if it would put Hermione at risk…"

"Absolutely," Fleur exclaimed, and her expression softened. "Of course. I would do the same."

Hermione, awash with frustration and shame, could only grasp his hand tighter. He returned the gesture with a gentle squeeze.

"Hermione, if you'd be willing to come to Gringotts this coming week, we can attempt to run more extensive testing," Bill said, as if to move on from the heavy tension that had grown in the room. "Malfoy, you should come too."

"We will do that," Malfoy responded before she could. His grey eyes flickered to rest on Hermione's. "Just name a day."

"Tuesday," Bill said, scribbling another note on his sheet of parchment. "Say, two o'clock?"

"Right," Hermione said, swallowing heavily. "That sounds just fine."

From there, the conversation turned to trivial matters, though Hermione wasn't certain she was really hearing anything at all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note _:_** Thank you to everyone who has been reading and following along, and especially, as always, for the kind words of encouragement. They really do help the story flow. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Thanks to Kyonomiko for being a rock star alpha.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 _ **August 20, 2002**_

Granger looked about how Draco felt, when he arrived at her cave Tuesday afternoon, prior to her appointment with Bill. He had hardly slept all week, partly due to the bleak prognosis Bill had offered, and partly because he hadn't seen her. He hadn't know how to bring up the new information they had learned; hadn't known whether she would want to see him.

"Hi," she breathed, reaching out to touch him on the arm. Draco was thankful he was wearing long sleeves, despite the summer heat; her touch was enough to set him off entirely.

"Hello," Draco clipped. "How are you doing?"

"Nervous," she replied, chewing her lower lip. "And you?"

"Don't be nervous," Draco murmured. "We're going to figure this out, right?"

"Right," Granger responded, sounding less than convinced. Draco smiled absently – if nothing else, he would vanish and she would break the curse in time. He would do it, despite everything, if it could save her.

"I read an account yesterday," Draco said, to fill the vast and empty tension between them, "of a veela who went nearly a year without the mating bond being accepted."

"Oh!" Granger exclaimed, her eyes widening. "Well that's good news, isn't it?"

"Sort of," Draco said with a shrug. "I mean, by then he was a slathering mess incapable of bonding anyhow… but I don't need to manage a full year, do I?"

"No," Granger gasped in horror.

Draco chewed his tongue, realizing perhaps that wasn't the best way to cheer her up. "Maybe Bill can find a way to untether the curse from your core magic."

"Maybe," Granger said distractedly, her voice soft.

Draco turned to face her, afraid to touch her, although her mere presence was doing wonders for his exhausted and melancholy state of mind. "Granger, are you alright? I know we haven't really had a chance to talk about what Bill said last week."

"Fine," she said dismissively. Then she shook her head, squeezing her eyes closed. "If anything, I'm worried about you. I don't… I can't be the reason you put yourself through such pain. I wish this curse had never happened… I wish –"

She was gasping, blinking rapidly; tears had sprung to the corner of her eyes.

"Granger," Draco said, his heart pounding at her words. "You can't control any of this. Obviously, I wish there were an easier way, too. But don't you _dare_ beat yourself up over something that isn't your fault. I will _gladly_ walk away, accepting all that entails, if it means you'll be able to carry on with a normal life again. Alright?"

Granger merely shook her head, worrying her lower lip. Draco had moved closer without noticing, his gaze hard as he stared at her. Her proximity had his head spinning, his mouth dry.

"You can't die," she choked. Her small hand made its way into his and Draco could hardly hear her words over the roar of blood in his ears.

"You owe me nothing, Granger," Draco ground through clenched teeth. "Alright? Nothing."

It was taking every fibre of his being to keep from pulling her closer. Frustrated, Draco tried to reign in his pheromones before they crept over her. She blinked, the faint glaze vanishing from her eyes.

"I can't let you die –" she repeated, shaking her head.

"Maybe I deserve it, Granger," Draco said, quietly.

And there it was – the conviction that had been growing, deep down, since he had learned the truth about his mate. That the woman he loved, the woman he yearned for with everything he was and more, could not save herself _and_ accept him.

"Maybe this is some sort of karmic retribution for everything I've done. Everything I put you through growing up."

"I don't care about any of that!" Granger cried, and the fierceness in her tone caught him off guard. "Do _not_ say you deserve to die, Malfoy, because I will never get over it if you do!"

"Of the two of us, Granger," Draco hissed, trying to summon anything to the forefront of his mind other than pure, unadulterated desire, " _you_ are not the one who deserves to give up your life."

Granger choked on a sob, her hand drifting to his arm, more firmly, and she stepped closer.

Draco wanted to hold her, to embrace her – he could feel the warmth of her breath on his neck and his eyes fluttered shut at the agony and the ecstasy of it. Against his free will, he buried a hand in her hair, dragging her nearer, his heart racing at her utter _closeness_.

Her hair felt like silk, and he couldn't keep himself from inhaling deeply, his face in her hair, basking in the scent that was so completely _her_.

"Granger," he growled, warningly, "you need to step away. Now."

His veins rain with fire; the veela within him roared to claim his mate. Her lips were close enough to taste – he dropped his head –

Granger stumbled back, blinking rapidly up at him. Her chest was heaving and Draco's eyes flickered down, his tongue absently moistening his lips. She wrenched her hand from his arm and Draco's fell from her hair to land by his side again.

He took a careful step back, unable to meet her gaze as wave after wave of shame crashed over him.

"We should go," Granger whispered, and she looked small and insecure when Draco turned his gaze to her.

"I can leave, if you prefer to go alone," he murmured. "I apologize… that was –"

"Was not your fault," Granger clipped, with a painfully forced smile. Her voice became softer. "I'd like you to come. I need my designated riddle-answerer, don't I?"

"I suppose you do," Draco acquiesced quietly. He cleared his throat and took another step back, leaving a safe distance between them. "To the Leaky, then?"

Granger grimaced. "Right. The Leaky."

"Any riddles to get out of your system?" Draco asked, attempting to lighten the terribly thick atmosphere between them.

"Unfortunately, they like to wait for inopportune moments," Granger said with a soft giggle. "But I appreciate the offer."

"Come on, then, or we'll be late," he clipped, offering his sleeved arm, onto which Granger held, careful to avoid the bare skin of his hand. Ignoring the warmth of her hand, Draco Apparated them both to the Leaky Cauldron.

"I didn't think this through very well, did I?" Granger asked with a nervous chuckle as she looked around at the patrons of the pub.

"You'll be fine," Draco said, "just stick with me if you have any riddles. Or... unless you'd rather not walk together."

He had only just realized how it would look for the two of them to be seen in public together. He wasn't certain how widely known his veela manifestation was. Regardless, Diagon was notoriously full of gossips.

"Of course I want to walk with you," Granger said, her head held high. "You're the only one who's been here for me through all this."

Draco blinked, oddly touched. They walked to Gringotts in relative silence, apart from one riddle which he answered with a grin.

"Hermione," Bill greeted with a smile, despite the dour situation. "Malfoy. Good to see you both again. Fleur was glad to have been able to talk to another veela last week."

"As was I," Draco replied with a bland smile.

"Hermione, I have equipment here that might be able to determine the extent to which the curse is connected with your core magic," Bill said, and Granger nodded, her brow furrowed. Draco wanted to take her hand, but reconsidered given how that had gone in the forest.

Bill allowed Draco to take a seat in the office as he ran the diagnostics on Hermione, which was good. Draco didn't think he would have had the mental fortitude to wait outside. There was a good chance Bill's office would have ended up incinerated.

And despite the complicated procedures and bizarre looking curse-breaking equipment, Draco knew the Weasleys had long considered Granger one of them, and it was that thought that was oddly the most reassuring.

After the tests were complete, Granger claimed a seat beside him, while Bill sat in an armchair across from them.

"I will have the full results back within a week," Bill explained. "Where shall I have them owled?"

"Send them to Malfoy, please," Granger said quickly. "He has a flat in London. He can get them to me."

"Very well," Bill said, one eyebrow raised. "From there, if you have any questions, you're more than welcome to schedule another consultation. I do hope to have good news for you."

Draco forced another bland smile as the three of them said farewell and he walked with Granger back to the Leaky. Somehow, the idea of leaving her to stew in the potential results made his stomach flop.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he breathed, turning to her. "I owe you, still, from the coffee shop."

"You don't owe me anything," Granger said, waving a hand, even as she worried her lower lip. "But I think I'd like that."

Draco walked to the bar, keeping an eye on Granger all the while as she selected a table. He felt his heart clench every time someone walked past, ready to rush in if need be. But no one approached her, and Draco felt a wave of relief sweep over him as he walked to her table with two Butterbeers.

Granger's smile as he slipped into the booth across from her set his heart alight.

"Thank you," she murmured, playing with her coaster instead of using it for her drink. "You've made this all a lot easier to deal with."

Draco snickered. "I've also made it a million times worse. Sort of the least I can do, isn't it?"

Granger shrugged, averting her gaze. "No," she said quietly. "I don't think you really have to do anything. And you certainly don't need to be so understanding."

"I think you're overestimating my self-control," Draco said with a chuckle, even as he felt them approach dangerous territory. He wasn't positive he had the strength to keep away from her even if he tried.

But Granger was gazing at him curiously, as if he were a spell she was determined to figure out.

"You don't deserve to die, you know," she said finally, taking a long sip of her Butterbeer. "When I think back to how you were in school… it's as if I can't reconcile who you are now to who you were then. But even if you were still like that… I wouldn't think you deserved to die."

"Thank you, Granger," Draco said, his throat feeling thick, his heart pounding nearly out of his chest. He swallowed heavily. "I appreciate that."

"Even when you discovered it was _me_ ," Granger went on, her voice wavering slightly. "That your mate wasn't some wealthy, pureblooded witch. You didn't flinch."

"Don't you get it?" Draco whispered. "None of that matters anymore. You're the _only_ one, Granger." He couldn't look at her eyes – the way they shone with a sort of desperate admiration. He looked away. "I would – _will_ – lay down my life for you, Hermione."

Her given name felt both foreign and glorious on his tongue. Draco didn't think he had ever used it without her surname spitefully attached. He wondered if she had noticed.

"I can't let you do that," she breathed, gazing at him in that same way that made his heart stop and explode all at once. She cleared her throat. "I won't."

Draco smiled absently and took a long sip of his Butterbeer. He knew, if it ultimately came down to it, there would be nothing she could do. He wouldn't allow her to curse herself eternally on his behalf, especially when they had no idea what the curse was capable of.

Finally he pressed his lips together and met her gaze. "Thanks, Granger."

"Thank _you_ ," she murmured, "for the drink. And for coming with me today."

"Anytime," Draco responded, feeling the tug of a smile at his lips. "Though, hopefully we don't have to make a habit of visiting curse-breakers."

"Merlin, no," she exclaimed with a smile. "Certainly not."

With a heavy heart, Draco noticed she had nearly finished her drink. It was the nearest thing to a date they had ever had – he wasn't yet ready for their time together to be over.

"Another?" Draco asked, gesturing to her mug.

Granger offered him a small smile. "I think I'm alright, thank you though."

It was only the expectation of what she would say that kept Draco from asking her to come to his flat for dinner. Or if he could bring food to her cave. Or absolutely any bloody reason he could think of to spend more time with her.

He was a man parched – she was his oasis in the desert. His salvation.

He nodded, and forced himself to swallow the dregs of his own drink.

As if reading his thoughts, Granger frowned.

"Look, Malfoy," she said, fidgeting with a loose curl hanging alongside her face. Draco felt himself tense for what she was about to say. "I don't know how to say this, really… this feels like a truly impossible situation. For as much as I know, logically, I shouldn't spend time with you... "

She sighed, playing with her coaster again. "I know that isn't an option for you. I'm trying to determine what's the best for both of us, and there isn't an answer."

"No," Draco said, his throat feeling dry. "The answer is what's best for you."

"Despite everything," Granger went on, her eyes flashing, "I find that I like spending time with you. I guess I feel like, _my_ life isn't at stake: _yours_ is. And I feel so _selfish_ to even consider my own needs before yours…"

"Your needs are no less trivial," Draco said, unable to meet her gaze. Her cheeks were flushed. "And don't you dare feel selfish for wanting to break your curse."

"I know we don't really know each other that well," Granger breathed, her eyes shining with moisture, "but even now, I can't imagine a world without you in it. And it would be my fault." She gasped, her chest heaving with rapid breaths.

Impulsively, Draco reached out to wipe a tear from her cheek. The energy that pulsed through him at the contact was nearly enough to set him off.

"Listen to me, Granger," he muttered, low and quiet. "I can only imagine a world where you're happy. And if that's a world I'm no longer a part of, then so be it. _You_ are my only priority."

"How could I ever be happy knowing I've cost you your life?" she gasped, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Draco swallowed heavily, feeling her pain implicitly.

"Granger," he breathed, leaning in across the table. Her eyes, shining and beautiful, met his. He lost his train of thought, and cleared his throat awkwardly. He squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment. "We don't have to worry about this right now, okay? We might still figure something out. _If_ my time with you is limited… can I make the most of it?"

Sniffling, Granger nodded. She pawed at her cheeks, wiping away the moisture. "Yes," she whispered. She looked in horror around the Leaky Cauldron. "How embarrassing. And now I must look a fright."

"You look fucking _gorgeous_ ," Draco quipped, attempting to lighten her mood. Despite her sadness, Granger giggled, shaking her head.

"Come on," Granger said, chewing her bottom lip. "I know a great take-out sandwich place. Do you know how to play rummy?"

"Not a clue," Draco said, smiling. "But it sounds perfect."

 _ **August 24, 2002**_

Hermione looked up from her book as she sensed Malfoy approaching the cave. He walked in unannounced, flashing her a grin as he settled himself into the pile of pillow beside her, crossing his long legs at the ankles.

He turned to look at her, eyes flashing. "Hi."

"Just the person I was hoping to see," Hermione said, feeling a smile creep to her face. "Will you do something with me today?"

"Of course," Malfoy said easily. "What's the something?"

"I have frightfully few human outfits," Hermione prefaced, biting her lip. "And since I've been spending more time as a human… well, I had to run out of three different Muggle stores this morning before I gave up. I thought maybe you could come with me?"

"You want me to go clothes shopping with you?" he asked, raising a pale brow.

"I'm quick, I promise," she said, teasingly. "I'm not one of those girls who takes hours trying on clothes and forcing their boyfriends to wait."

She realized what she had said moments after she said it. Malfoy's mouth was hanging open slightly; when he snapped it shut it was into a sultry smile.

"What if I want to see you trying on pretty outfits?" he murmured, grey eyes sparkling.

Hermione chuckled and averted her gaze. Despite his closeness, and the veela senses that she knew drove him, he was usually quite proper and typically refrained from any sort of personal contact.

He spared her the need to answer when he continued. "Before we do anything, I have some post for you."

" _Post_?" Hermione exclaimed, baffled.

"Post," Malfoy repeated, his tone and expression disgruntled. "It seems we were less than discrete in Diagon Alley on Tuesday."

He pulled a small bundle of mail from his trouser pocket, wandlessly expanding the parchment and handing it to her. Hermione grimaced as she recognized the writing.

 _Hermione_

 _Is there any particular reason that you've been avoiding us since returning to England? Where are you staying that's unplottable and warded against owls, and WHY?_

 _Hannah's told Ron she's seen you in Diagon with MALFOY, of all people. And then bloody Fleur told us you've been to visit her and Bill! What is going on, Hermione? Owl us back!_

 _PS Luna says hi, and she hopes your infestation of Nargles has cleared up._

 _Harry (and Ron)_

Malfoy grimaced again as she finished reading the letter, turning to him with a guilty frown. "Before you ask, the matter of my manifestation is not public record – I looked into it – so unless Bill and Fleur told them, they won't know about that." He clicked his tongue and went on. "I didn't mean to read your mail. It came with a cover, threatening me unless I gave it to you, because ' _I obviously know how to reach you_ '." The last he said in a mocking tone, making air quotes with his fingers.

Hermione sighed, picking at her hair.

"You don't have to see them if you aren't ready," Malfoy said flatly. He smirked. "I'll be happy to pass on the message."

"I suppose I really should," Hermione said with a heavy sigh. "Especially since now I have not one, but two awkward conversations to have with them. And I don't suppose they'll take either well."

"Do you want me to be there?" Malfoy asked with no small amount of trepidation.

"I don't think I could ask that of you," Hermione said, chewing her lip. "And I'm not sure whether that would make it better or worse."

"In case you haven't noticed, Granger," he drawled, "I would quite literally do anything for you. Goes with the genetics."

"You've done more for me than you realize," Hermione said, meeting his gaze. His grey eyes were bright, his brow furrowed as he stared back. Flushing, she tore her gaze from him. "I think this is something I need to do alone." She sighed heavily. "Only, I know neither Harry nor Ron are good at riddles. The last thing I need is to attack of one of them."

"I'm glad you said it," Malfoy snorted. "Do you want me nearby?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, rubbing her eyes. "I'll owl them back, and see about arranging something."

"I know it isn't my place, but I'm going to overstep anyway," Malfoy said, turning to her with a teasing smile. "It seems to me, if you've hardly seen them in over two years, and you've been back in England at least a year… but yet they only reached out once they heard you were out with me? Do you really owe them anything?"

"They have their own lives now," Hermione said, her argument sounding feeble even as she said it. She chewed her tongue, considering his words. "No, probably not. But even so, they're my friends."

"I trust your judgement," Malfoy said easily, readjusting his position in the pillows and closing his eyes. "And if you want me somewhere close by, I'll be there. Just in case."

"I appreciate that," Hermione said thoughtfully, drawing a quill and a sheet of parchment to the lumpy floor in front of her. She quickly scrawled a response that they arrange a quiet location and she would meet with them. "Will you owl this for me?"

"Of course," Malfoy said, sitting up again from his comfortable position. Mockingly he grumbled, "I'm getting you your own owl."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note _:_** Thanks as always to everyone who takes the time to read and leave feedback on the story. I'm so pleased you're enjoying it, and I hope you continue to do so!

Thanks to Kyonomiko for so much alpha help.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 _ **August 27, 2002**_

Hermione inched through the doorway of a small, dingy-looking pub, only slightly off the beaten path in Diagon Alley. When she had said quiet, this wasn't exactly what she was referring to. She had put off her arrival until she was nearly late, not of a mind to loiter and wait for Harry and Ron to arrive.

Though she understood Malfoy's concern, she didn't think the best way to explain the situation to her two long-time friends was with their former nemesis at her side. Even so, she couldn't quite help the niggling of worry in the back of her mind that she was making a mistake.

Although she couldn't help the absent smile that drifted to her face at the thought of the shopping trip he had taken her on the other day. How he had meticulously and efficiently begun handing her things to try on – things she would never have picked out for herself that she ended up loving – and how he had stoically denied, repeatedly, that he was bored.

Almost mechanically, she started noting things in the pub as she walked to the table where two familiar heads were sat, one facing toward and one away from her. The best way to keep the riddles at bay was to keep her mind otherwise occupied.

The wooden barstools at the counter, their finish chipped and legs unsteady. Some sort of peculiar and unnerving stain on the floor. Coat racks reaching out into the aisles from the booths.

"Hi," Hermione breathed, as she reached Harry and Ron.

"Hermione!" the two chorused, standing to awkwardly embrace her from their half-seated positions already in the booth.

"It's great to see you," Harry said, nudging her in the arm as she took a seat beside him. Things between her and Ron had never quite gone past the slight strain borne of her leaving to Australia after the war.

The forest green and cobalt blue stripes of Harry's jumper. The way Ron's cheeks were always sort of permanently flushed. Initials carved into the wooden surface of the table.

"Same to you," Hermione responded with as genuine a smile as she could manage, frazzled though her nerves were already.

Perhaps she should have at least told Malfoy where she was going. He could have easily fit right in with this crowd if he'd worn a cloak to conceal his overtly obvious identity.

"It's too bad we didn't get to spend more time with you at the wedding," Harry continued on, not having noticed anything amiss. "Luna was hopeful you would have been there to join her in a dance for the blessing of the spirits."

"I'm sorry I missed that," Hermione said with a grimace. "How is married life treating the two of you?"

"Really well," Harry said, nodding as he sipped from a grungy looking mug of what she hoped was Firewhisky.

Absently, she signalled toward a disgruntled looking barmaid, who rolled her eyes and walked off to fetch Hermione a drink.

"Good," Hermione said, fidgeting with the strap of her beaded bag. "And how have you been, Ron? Is Hannah well?"

"Hannah's great," Ron said, his flush deepening. "I'm good, too. And you?"

Merlin's beard, this felt awkward.

"I've been good," Hermione said, forcing another smile. "Keeping busy, you know how it is."

Lounging in her cave. Researching how one becomes un-cursed. Playing cards with a veela.

"Too busy to keep in touch with us?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed with a frown. Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"Keeping in contact is a two-way street, Harry," Hermione said with consternation.

"I've tried owling you," Harry said, sounding irritated at her rebuttal.

"More than once?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow. Harry fell silent.

She exhaled a deep breath, willing her claws to stay hidden. It was an occasional, and rather unfortunate, side effect of the curse.

Her drink sloshed over the sides of the mug as it was dropped rather unceremoniously in front of her by the surly waitress. The mug bore an embossed depiction of a man on a racing broom chasing a bird.

The way the beverage seeped into the cracks of the carvings on the table.

Hermione took another deep breach, and plastered a smile on her face.

It hit her like a ton of bricks. She wished Malfoy were with her after all.

"As it turns out, I've been noticeably absent for a reason."

"And?" Ron prompted; both boys were looking at her with their brows raised expectantly.

Hermione cleared her voice, forcing herself to stop fidgeting with the filthy mug of something she had been given. "I've been cursed."

"What do you mean, cursed?" Harry asked, his frown of annoyance turning into one of concern. "When?"

"Two years ago, when I was in Australia," Hermione said, chewing her lip. "I was trying to help my parents and my search for answers led me to a sorcerer who is known only as the Witch Doctor. He refused to help me –" she paused, chewing on her tongue.

The soft denim of her new, ridiculously overpriced jeans Malfoy had insisted on buying her. The way her curls felt scrunched in her hand.

Harry and Ron were gazing at her with equal parts concern and discomfort.

"Well, anyway, it's a long story but I argued with him and he cursed me as a sphinx. I spend most of my time as a lion because when I'm around people –"

She could feel her tongue start to disconnect from her brain. The first tell-tale sign that a riddle was on its way.

Her eyes flickered around the pub, frantically searching for something to distract herself.

The riddles were much like the sensation that occurs when one needs to cough, Hermione had long ago discovered. The more you thought about it, and tried to prevent it from happening, the worse it became.

"You need to –" she tried, gazing frantically at Harry and Ron. Her words were no longer under her control. "I reach for the sky, but clutch to the ground; sometimes I leave, but I am always around."

"A lion?" Ron asked, bewildered.

"Did you become an Animagus, Hermione?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed. "Why should that keep you from us? What does that have to do with being cursed?"

"Answer the riddle," Hermione grit tersely through her teeth. " _Please_."

"The riddle," Ron said, blinking. "What has that got to go do with any of this? Can you repeat it?"

Tears broke at the corners of her eyes as claws grew into her clenched palms. As well as she possibly could, she hissed out the riddle again.

"Reach for the sky," Harry said ponderously. Hermione choked on a sob, preparing herself to dart from the pub if need be. She pressed her lips together as fangs began to elongate from her gums, the transformation pushing against her will. "Hermione, are you alright?"

"The riddle!" she cried, staring into her own lap. Blood was spilling from her clenched hands, ruining her beautiful new jeans.

"We don't know it," Ron said, eyes darting around frantically.

Hermione stood to attempt an Apparition, or to run – it happened in an instant.

The unfriendly barmaid walked past, sneering. Hermione raised a half-formed paw, and as tears poured from her eyes, she swiped.

A flash of blond broke her watery vision; her claws found flesh and a hiss echoed in her ears. Strong arms came around her shoulders, holding her tightly even as the transformation progressed.

"What was the riddle?" a new voice asked, urgently, ragged with pain.

Dimly, she was aware of her riddle being repeated, even as her claws sunk deeper, her fangs revealing themselves.

"A tree, Granger," Malfoy choked out. "It's a tree."

Hermione blinked with horror to see the blood on her hands as she collapsed to her seat, the partial transformation reversing itself, as innocuously as the retreat of a destructive tornado.

And the tears of pain turned to tears of fear in an instant. Malfoy was clutching his shoulder, blood seeping through a row of slashes in his coat. Hermione couldn't tell how deep the wounds went through his tattered sleeve.

Harry and Ron were staring, having watched the scene unfold in a mute terror.

Beyond Malfoy, the barmaid was wide-eyed, one hand outstretched as she opened her mouth to call out.

" _Obliviate_ ," Malfoy grunted with a wave of his hand, and the barmaid walked away, looking slightly dazed. Somehow, with their booth tucked away in the corner, no one else had noticed.

Grasping her bloody hands with his own, Malfoy healed the slices on her palms, his grey eyes betraying his pain and fear. Then he pressed the hand of his uninjured arm, slick with blood, against his shredded shoulder. Slowly, the bleeding ceased, and he cleaned the blood from them both, his chest heaving with the effort of wandless magic.

Malfoy dropped into the booth beside her, despite the open spot across from her, urgently catching her gaze. Harry huffed and slid around the turn of the rounded booth, so he was opposite Hermione and beside Ron.

"Are you alright?" Malfoy asked, blatantly ignoring Harry and Ron, who were still staring wordlessly at the scene. His brow furrowed as he held her gaze and he raised a hand to the curve of her shoulder. His voice dropped so no one else could hear. "I could _feel_ your emotional distress."

"Thank you," Hermione gasped, the truth of what had happened crashing down around her. She had nearly mauled him. Frantically she pawed at the tears still breaking from her eyes.

"Hermione," Harry breathed, swallowing. "What in the name of Merlin's bollocks was that?"

Exhaling, Hermione turned back to Harry and Ron. "Like I said – cursed."

"Fuck," Ron swore, shaking his head. "A little warning would have been nice? Like, I don't know, if I start spewing riddles, _answer them_?"

"I _urged_ you to answer it," Hermione ground through her teeth. "Instead you dawdled on semantics."

Beside her, Malfoy tensed, his hand lingering on her arm. Harry blinked several times, shaking his head.

"Alright, so suppose we are to simply accept the premise that you ask riddles and turn into a lion, _how_ exactly is Malfoy involved?" Harry asked, his eyes darting between the two of them, lingering on the way Malfoy held her arm protectively.

"I happen to be good at riddles," Malfoy drawled affectedly. "Unlike –"

"Malfoy is my friend," Hermione interrupted, casting him a glance. She thought she saw a flicker of something pass through his eyes, but in an instant, it was gone.

"Your friend?" Ron asked, looking sceptical, as if _that_ were the craziest bit of information she had just revealed to him.

"It's a long story," Hermione said, feeling deflated. The events of the last several minutes had worn her out; she wanted to return to her cave and sleep.

"How did you know where we were?" Harry asked, eyes narrowed as he stared at Malfoy. "And how did you Apparate through the wards?"

Malfoy swallowed and glanced at Hermione, dropping his hand. She placed her hand on top of his, with a reassuring smile. Malfoy gazed at her for a long moment, his eyes softening.

"I'm a veela," he said quietly, not looking away from her. "And Granger's my mate."

"WHAT?" Harry exclaimed, jumping to his feet. His eyes were wide, his head shaking with denial.

"No way!" Ron shouted, his hands clenched into fists. "Hermione, that can't be true!"

"It's true," Hermione clipped, interlocking her fingers with the blond beside her. She allowed the soothing veela energy racing between them to ease her pounding heart. "Malfoy's been helping me to try and find a way out of the curse."

"We could have helped you!" Harry hissed, brow furrowing with anger. Awkwardly, he retook his seat. "Had you come to us at all with this!"

A wave of guilt crept up on Hermione at his words. Malfoy gaze her hand a gentle squeeze.

"In case you can't tell, it's difficult for me to be around people," Hermione said, torn between hurt and anger. "If it hadn't been for Malfoy, I would have lived out the remainder of the curse as a lion."

"I don't like that he's involved," Ron said, pointing an accusatory finger at Malfoy.

"Accept it, Weasley," Malfoy drawled, raising an eyebrow. "It's beyond any of our control."

"Does he treat you poorly, Hermione?" Harry asked in a low tone, his jaw tight.

"Seriously?" Hermione exclaimed, glancing to Malfoy in bafflement. "Did you not just see him literally take a mauling to protect me?"

Harry frowned but didn't respond.

"How does it work, anyway?" Ron asked, ready to carry on with Harry's deflated ire. "Does he just arbitrarily select someone to be this _mate_?"

"Honestly, Weasley," Malfoy said, squeezing his eyes shut. "I had no control over the selection of my mate, much as I had no control over my manifestation."

"This is why you went to visit Bill and Fleur!" Harry suddenly exclaimed. Then he frowned, the blood draining from his face. "Hermione, have you accepted the bond? You don't have to, you know?"

"I am fully aware I don't have to," Hermione responded stiffly. "But to refuse the bond would be more detrimental than I'm willing to accept."

Beneath the table, Hermione felt Malfoy's knee press against hers.

Hermione opened her mouth to continue - "What falls down but never breaks?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a panicked glance, their eyes wide at the second, unexpected riddle.

"Nightfall," Malfoy said easily, with a private smile. Then his eyes fluttered and he visibly winced, grasping his arm. When Hermione looked closer, she noticed he seemed more pale than usual.

He ought to have gone to the hospital, rather than lingering behind with them, especially with the added exertion of his wandless healing magic. Hermione tore his hand from the wound, finding it covered in blood again. Her eyes widened in terror.

"The healing spell I used didn't go deep enough, I suppose," he breathed.

"I'm taking you to St Mungo's; they'll heal your arm properly," Hermione responded instantly. She threw a few galleons on the table for the drink she hadn't touched, and shot a wary glance at Harry and Ron. "I would appreciate it if you don't share what I've told you today."

"Hermione –" Harry began, as if to debate the point.

"I'll owl you," she exclaimed, somewhat desperately, as she nudged the weakening veela from the booth, following closely after with a steadying hand to his good arm. "Talk later!"

If they responded, she didn't hear, as she led Malfoy from the pub and Apparated him to St Mungo's.

* * *

Hermione huffed as she paced the hallway outside of Malfoy's hospital room.

She had briefly informed the healers that his arm had been slashed by a wild animal – and thankfully they hadn't asked further questions. But then she had been promptly blocked from the room.

"Excuse me, I need to go in there," she said, urgently catching up to a healer who was leaving the room.

"Immediate family only, at this time," the healer responded, absently checking her charts.

"But I'm his mate," Hermione exclaimed, not caring that there was a pleading tone to her voice. "I need to see him."

The healer glanced up sharply with a raised eyebrow, charts forgotten. " _You're_ the mate?" The healer huffed irritably. "If you care about him, complete the bond. You're only drawing out his pain. Unbonded mates are _not_ immediate family."

Hermione frowned at the lime green robes of the healer's retreating back, even as guilt raced through her. Was he perhaps suffering more than he was letting on?

Hermione blinked as a tall, blonde woman walked into the waiting room, her blue eyes gazing frantically around. She approached the counter, as ever a picture of elegance and grace.

"Mrs Malfoy," Hermione said, the words a surprised reaction more than anything else.

Narcissa Malfoy looked up, startled, and gazed at Hermione for a long moment, as if trying to place how they knew one another.

"Oh, Ms Granger," Narcissa said distractedly, with a tight smile. "I don't suppose you have seen my Draco? I was only informed he had been brought here for treatment."

Hermione was suddenly reminded that Malfoy had not yet told his mother about the situation.

"He's here," she breathed, gesturing to the door beside which she stood. "I… brought him." She felt lame and clumsy next to the woman, as Narcissa breezed past, her brow furrowed with concern, and walked directly into the room.

Hermione tried to follow, her heart bursting with anxiety, and overridden with guilt over the fact that it was her fault he was injured.

"Family only," another healer said sternly, blocking her entry.

Narcissa turned to see the disturbance, her blue eyes narrowing with disdain.

"Let her stay, please," Malfoy said softly from the bed. Hermione's heart jolted, while the healers looked at her in surprise and allowed her entry. Moments later, while Hermione lingered near the door, the healers filed from the room, their work evidently done. Narcissa Malfoy watched, her gaze calculating, as Hermione meekly approached the bed.

Malfoy was pale but smiling, his arm properly healed. There was something soft and undeserved in his gaze as he stared at her – something that made her heart race.

Behind her, Hermione heard a sharp intake of breath from Narcissa and the woman stepped forward, a hand over her mouth.

"Mother," Malfoy said gently, "meet my mate, Hermione Granger."

Narcissa clutched Hermione's arm, and Hermione laid her other hand on Narcissa's. The usually collected woman's eyes were brimming with tears.

"Ms Granger," Narcissa gasped, as if seeing her for the first time. "I'm so pleased – I had feared –"

"I know," Hermione breathed, wishing she wasn't about to break the woman's hopes.

Hermione stared at Malfoy, feeling a sudden rush of emotion – relief, concern, and a niggling sense of something akin to happiness. The look he was giving her – she recognized, so blatantly now, that it had to be love – made her knees quake.

"Thank you for saving me," he murmured, holding a hand out to take hers. The rush of energy that now coursed through her nearly had her choke on a sob.

"What happened, Draco?" Narcissa asked, quietly, as she approached the other side of his bed.

"Came across a wild puma," Malfoy said, holding Hermione's gaze. "Thoughtless of me. I was lucky Granger was there."

Hermione swallowed at the intensity in his eyes, unable and unwilling to look away. It wasn't pheromones – it was something else entirely.

"Right," she choked out in corroboration. "A puma. Rare, but sometimes in the wilderness, you know…"

She trailed off, realizing the factuality of the story was not Narcissa's concern. Malfoy had probably known as much.

"You have found your mate, but yet, you remain unbonded," Narcissa said, so softly Hermione had to strain to hear her. Her heart dropped in her chest, against realizing the tension of the moment.

Malfoy smiled at her again. "Mother, I've chosen to properly court Granger. We will accept the bond together, when we are ready."

Hermione huffed a small breath of relief, recognizing his intentions to protect his mother from the truth. She could live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve the level of devotion he was offering her. She blinked back tears at the thought.

She squeezed his hand.

"But…" Narcissa began, "won't it make you sick?"

"Maybe," Malfoy said with a dismissive shrug. "According to the healers, my weakened state from the blood loss following the attack was greatly exacerbated by the fact that the bond has not been completed. My magic will eventually be affected as well, of course, but all the tests they've just run suggest I've still got plenty of time to be a proper gentleman."

As Hermione was seized with another crippling wave of guilt, Malfoy offered her a cheeky wink that made her bite back a smile.

His eyes fluttered shut and Hermione stepped closer, drawing his hand towards her.

"I apologize," he murmured, "I find myself quite fatigued."

"Of course," Narcissa said, shaking off her distraction. "I will let you sleep. But please, do come for a visit very soon. Both of you."

"We will," Hermione assured the woman who, under better circumstances, would be her mother-in-law. With a sharp nod, and a hand to Malfoy's brow, Narcissa left the room.

Left alone with Malfoy, Hermione suddenly felt her tears return. "I am _so_ sorry," she gasped, as she fell into the chair at his bedside.

"Don't be," he said easily. "I apologize for intruding on your meeting. I just knew, when I felt your distress, what must have been happening."

"I should have asked you to come," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I shouldn't have doubted you." She took a deep, rattling breath. "I can't believe I hurt you."

"It'll take a lot more than slashing my arm open to get rid of me," he said with a weak chuckle. His eyes fell closed again. When he opened them, he was gazing at her with that same warmth, and it flooded Hermione's veins.

"I'm so glad you're alright," Hermione said, dropping her face to the back of his hand she still held, drawing strength from the energy between them. "If I had seriously injured –"

"You didn't," Malfoy murmured, cutting her off. "And that's all that matters."

Hermione nodded, taking another steady breath, inhaling his scent.

"I really am quite tired," he said, smirking. "It wasn't just a line to get rid of my mother. Try not to attack anyone while I take a nap, hmm?"

"I'll try," Hermione whispered. "And I'll try to be here when you wake, but if I have to leave, come see me once you're out, okay?"

"Absolutely," he said, voice thick with sleep. And when his eyes fluttered shut once more, they didn't re-open. His breathing grew steady, his hand slack in hers, and Hermione leaned back in her seat and allowed herself to breathe.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note _:_** Thank you all for your continued lovely words about this story. It's been a rough week on crutches with a busted foot, and the love for this story has made it a little bit better :) So I give you chapter 8, a couple days earlier than intended. I hope you enjoy, and please do let me know what you think! xoxo

Alpha love to Kyonomiko.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 _ **September 1, 2002**_

Draco watched from across the cave as Granger's eyes flew rapidly back and forth across the sheet of parchment that contained Bill Weasley's full analysis of her condition.

To keep from fidgeting or peering over her shoulder, he was languidly moving the few stacks of clothing she had piled along one wall into a small dresser he had given her to use.

With a furtive glance in her direction, Draco inspected the neatly folded stack of knickers.

"Malfoy," she growled in warning, and when he turned back, her brows were high.

Draco snickered and carefully set her underthings into the top drawer. "I'm impressed, Granger. I wouldn't have pegged you for the skimpy, lacy sort."

If he was honest, simply imagining Granger wearing those knickers had Draco incredibly distracted and turned on. He let out a long breath.

Granger scoffed and rose to her feet, even as a flush grew high on her cheekbones. She thrust the sheet of parchment into his chest in irritation, and as Draco grabbed at the letter, Granger swooped in and tucked a stack of brassieres into the drawer, slamming it so he couldn't take a closer look.

"You're no fun," he teased, letting a smile rise to his lips. "A man can dream, can't he?"

"Dream all you like," Granger said in a high voice, folding her arms as she leaned innocuously against the closed drawer.

"Oh, Granger," Draco chuckled, draping his arms over her shoulders teasingly, drawing her closer. He let the sheet of parchment drop to the ground. He could feel her huffing against his chest, but eventually her arms came around his back.

Suddenly, the feel of her, pressed against his front, sent Draco's veela senses into overdrive. The pressure of her hands on his back, her arms on his sides – the _scent_ of her –

How easy it would be, to lift her small frame onto the dresser – to wrap her legs around his waist –

Draco dropped his face into her curly hair, breathing deep, basking in the enticing scent of his mate. He stepped closer, drawing her nearer still. He could feel each of her breaths, gentle puffs of air against his neck, her fingers as they trailed gently along his spine…

The exposed skin of her neck and collarbone was teasing him; his blood was alight as it raced through his veins, pounding in his brain, spurring him onwards to _take_ , to _claim_.

To claim his mate, whom he so greatly desired.

Draco had no control of the pheromones that poured from his skin in waves, no control of the fangs that elongated and sharpened, of his hands as he swept her hair away from her shoulders, one buried deep in her curls.

His head pitched forward; he could taste the scent of her as every last instinct screamed at him, drove him forward – his teeth grazed the gentle curve of her neck –

"What are you doing," Granger whispered, her voice thick.

Draco nuzzled the skin where her neck and shoulder met, his tongue darting out to taste her flesh.

"Malfoy –" she gasped.

 _Claim claim claim_. His eyes fluttered shut as he bared his fangs, and he tilted her head –

Draco stumbled back at a sudden forceful pressure to his midsection. Through the blurred haze that had become his vision, he saw the fuzzy shape of Granger dart away from between him and the dresser, her arms folded defensively across her chest.

As the rush of blood dulled and the instincts settled, Draco blinked into focus and with it came horror.

He stared at Granger, her brown eyes flashing, and his brow furrowed with dismay, with fear, with utter _self_ - _loathing_.

Draco blinked several times, the last of the roar having all but vanished, and he wished he could vanish along with it. He carded a hand through his hair, lost for words.

"Granger," he breathed. "I –"

"Are you alright?" she gasped, desperately seeking eye contact.

"Merlin," Draco said, shaking his head. "I'm so – I can't even fucking –" A wall of shame was crushing him into nothing but dust. He whispered, "What the fuck. I'm so sorry, Granger."

"Malfoy, what –" she choked, her eyes swimming with tears Draco had caused. He couldn't stand to look at them. She took a cautious step towards him – Draco couldn't stand to see that either.

He had made her cry. He had made her _afraid_ of him.

"I have to go," he breathed, and Disapparated.

* * *

Draco slammed the door to his flat, his hands melting the doorknob as he paced frantically into the sitting room.

He ran his hands through his hair, desperately, fighting the urge to tear the fine strands from his scalp. _What had he done_.

Granger would never go near him again – not if that was his reaction to her close proximity. He had so nearly claimed her, against her will, against everything he had ever said. How would she ever trust him again?

"What the fuck have you done?" Theo asked, one unimpressed brow cocked, as he calmly sat with his hands interlocked on the sofa.

Draco abruptly ceased his pacing, turning to his friend with desperation.

"Yes, Theo, exactly! What have I done?" Draco asked, running his hands through his already disheveled hair again.

"No, I mean, you've ruined the door," Theo said blandly. He vaguely gestured in the direction of the door, half hanging on its hinges, cinders from the wood collecting on the floor. "But now I'm curious. What _did_ you do?"

Theo leaned back in his seat, hands behind his head, looking for all the world as if he hadn't a care.

Draco was approaching a full-scale panic. He sat beside Theo, who was looking supremely amused.

"She's never going to look at me again," he breathed, eyes wide. "Theo, I was joking, about her racy knickers –"

"Reasonable," Theo interrupted with a nod.

"And I touched her, and she _embraced_ me, and –" he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the memories. "I lost control, Theo. I came so _fucking_ close to marking her."

"Would it have been the end of the world?" Theo asked casually, his bloodshot eyes flashing.

"Absolutely!" Draco said, shaking his head. He pressed his hands to the couch and quickly drew them back as the fabric began to smoulder. "Theo, if I mark her while she's still cursed, she'll most likely never be able to get out of it. I can't do that to her."

"As opposed to what, Draco?" Theo asked, and his tone was cutting. "Compared to you _dying_ if you don't?"

Draco fell silent, pressing his lips together. "You know my stance on the matter."

"Doesn't mean I have to agree with it," Theo rebuked angrily. "Why don't I go visit your little mate? Scare some sense into her. If she doesn't realize the stakes here –"

"She realizes, alright?" Draco asked, growing irritated with his oldest friend. "Of _course_ she realizes, she's bloody brilliant. But I _won't_ do that to her."

"Fine," Theo said, taking a deep breath, his casual stance gone. "Look at this reasonably, please. Does Granger know you're a veela?"

"Yes," Draco bit out, rolling his eyes.

"Good. And does she realize you're driven by instinctive urges that go back millennia?" Theo asked, his tone dangerously close to patronizing.

"Yes," Draco repeated, his hands still hot.

"Does she fucking _realize_ how hard you work to keep those urges at bay, ninety-eight percent of the time?" Theo growled. "Does she know that you would quite literally give your life to defy those urges, if it meant a trade for hers?"

"Yes," Draco said, a heavy sigh of defeat crashing over him.

"Well then," Theo said, leaning back in his seat once more. He plucked a bag of blood off the end table and neatly punctured it, taking a long sip. "I'll prepare myself for when she bursts into the flat within the next handful of minutes, given you've destroyed the door and deactivated the wards."

Draco punched a fiery hole through the back of the couch.

* * *

Hermione edged nervously into Malfoy and Nott's flat, careful not to touch the still smoking wood of a very mutilated front door.

"Your wards are down," she breathed, upon noticing the two males watching her warily from the sitting room. Awkwardly she gestured to the door. "I mean, this door…" She let out a long breath.

"I know," Malfoy bit out. "I'll fix it."

"Er, hello Nott," Hermione said. The vampire merely nodded, sucking away on a bag of blood. Hermione tried to force a smile. "Malfoy."

"Granger."

"Do you want me to –" she waved at the door again. "I don't mind."

Malfoy simply raised an eyebrow and sank into the half-destroyed couch on which the two sat. Pressing her lips together, Hermione settled into the armchair nearest the entrance.

Malfoy was furiously chewing his tongue, his gaze averted. Nott was staring at her while making a show of enjoying his bag of blood. Hermione very nearly darted right back to her cave.

"Well," Hermione said, pressing her hands between her knees. "This is lovely."

"You don't need to pretend everything's okay, Granger," Malfoy finally said. "I know I fucked up. I don't expect you to ever trust me again."

Hermione shuttered her eyes for a long moment. "Which part of this is your fault, Malfoy?"

"All of it," he grunted. "I shouldn't have touched you."

"If I recall correctly," Hermione said, testing the waters, "I touched you in return. Shall we call it my fault?"

"I should have been more in control," Malfoy hissed. Hermione could practically feel the waves of self-loathing rolling off of him. Nott snickered through his blood, thoroughly amused by the situation.

"Malfoy," Hermione said, tilting her head. "You know I'm aware how hard you work to keep your instincts in check, right?"

Nott gestured pointedly in her direction with his bag of blood. Malfoy rolled his eyes and pressed his hands together.

"I know you're aware," he grumbled.

"Then how can I not understand?" she asked, quietly, imploringly. "As if I don't realize everything you've done for me? That you continue to do for me, every single day? I _know_ this is hard on you, Malfoy."

Finally he met her gaze, his grey eyes dull and listless.

"And I wish I could just accept the bond, you know?" she asked, shaking her head in frustration.

"So do it," Nott challenged, setting aside his empty bag. "Would you rather be cursed, or have him die?"

"Nott," Malfoy hissed, his lips a thin, angry line. "Don't –"

"It's the truth," Nott said flatly. "I know you get it, Granger, and I know the two of you are trying to work out a solution. Draco tells me almost everything. But honestly?"

"I'm not going to let him die," Hermione breathed, feeling the tight clench of panic around her heart, as she always did every time she considered the thought.

"Good," Nott clipped, pulling his hood far over his head. His eyes were significantly less red. "I'm going to hold you to that, Granger. And if I lose my best mate, you'll lose yours."

"Nott!" Malfoy exclaimed, hands clenched into fists.

Hermione paled significantly. "I'd rather you come for me than get anyone else involved," she reasoned. "And besides, Malfoy probably _is_ my best mate these days."

"Fine, you, then," Nott said, waving a hand. "I'm not picky."

"You won't be going after anyone," Malfoy said through gritted teeth. "In fact, why are you even still here for this conversation?"

Nott shrugged, ignoring the question. "You'll be dead, won't you? You don't get a say if you choose to die."

"That's how this is going to be, then?" Malfoy asked, his grey eyes narrowed with fury. "If you _dare_ go after my mate, I'll come back from the fucking dead and –"

"Stop it!" Hermione exclaimed. Both males fell silent and turned identical, baleful stares her way. "This is all irrelevant because no one is going to die!"

"I _can't_ die," Nott said with a sneer. Malfoy gave him a rude gesture.

"Malfoy isn't going to die," Hermione clarified. "If it comes to it… I'll take the bloody bond." She pressed her eyes shut, willing her heart to steady. She could take being cursed forever, if it would save Malfoy's life. Even though she didn't know what the curse would do if she failed to break it.

"Prove it," Nott challenged, his hazel eyes fixed on her. "Fucking _vow_ it."

"Not a chance," Malfoy growled, leaping to his feet. "Granger, don't you dare take a vow."

Hermione met his gaze, and she could see the raw fear in his grey depths. "I would do it," she breathed, swallowing as she stood. "I won't let you die."

Malfoy approached her, his eyes flashing. He was so close she could breathe in the scent of him; he was nearly shaking with anger. She thought she could see the heat rising from his hands.

"That," he hissed, broken and angry, "is not your call to make. I would leave before I allowed you to sacrifice yourself, Granger."

"Bloody self-righteous Gryffindor, you are," Nott snickered.

Hermione glowered at Malfoy. "You can't leave."

"I would, if it was the last option," he breathed. His gaze briefly shifted to Nott. "Please ignore him. He's stirring _shite_ because he doesn't understand how I feel about you. It isn't personal."

"I get it," Hermione said, mimicking his volume. "I'd feel the same way."

"I refuse to let you take the vow," he added, eyebrows flickering. "I trust that, if we find a way that works for us both, we can proceed, if you still want to. But I can't let you make any commitments greater than that."

"I'll _still want_ you not to die," Hermione deadpanned. "And if we find a way, then yes. The bond will go ahead." She met his gaze, her brow furrowing. "But even if we don't find a way –"

"Please, Granger," he whispered, squeezing his eyes tight. "If we don't find a way, we'll know we've done all we could."

Hermione stared at him for a long moment; his grey eyes were beseeching – pleading – her to go along with it.

"Fine, Malfoy," she said, forcing a smile.

Clearly, she would simply have to make a plan of her own.

Nott rolled his eyes. "I can't even hear what you two are saying anymore. Later Granger, good to see you again. You know, even with the terrible circumstances and the threats, and what have you."

He rose to leave the sitting room.

"Same to you, Nott," Hermione said in return, smiling despite herself. She turned back to Malfoy. "Are you truly alright?"

"Yes," he said, waving a hand absently at the damaged couch; it instantly repaired itself. He collapsed into the cushions, and Hermione followed him. He ran a hand down his face. "I couldn't believe how thoroughly I lost control. The way you looked at me –"

He broke off, shaking his head. Hermione could taste his fear, like a sharp tang permeating the room.

Hermione sat beside him, timidly. "It frightened me, a little," she admitted. "But I know how hard you're trying. The healers told me you're really struggling."

Malfoy shrugged, resting his head on the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling.

"Honestly, Granger?" he asked. She nodded, chewing her lip. "It _hurts_ to be around you. But it hurts more to stay away." He frowned, folding his arms across his chest, his gaze firmly on the roof. "All I want to do, always, is touch you. And kiss you. And… well." He shrugged, and Hermione found herself giggling.

He pressed his eyes shut for a long moment, before finally turning towards her. "I want to give you the world, Granger. I want to give you _everything_ but all I have is my heart. And that's already yours."

Hermione stared at him for a long moment, worrying her lip. She felt tears spike at the corners of her eyes at his honest, genuine sentiments. She felt caught in his gaze as he simply stared at her; her skin grew flushed; she couldn't look away. He was the most gorgeous being she had ever laid eyes on.

Her vision glazed as she stared at him, memorizing him. Her breathing hitched, her heart racing. Her eyelids grew heavy.

She wanted to burrow into his chest and stay there forever. She wanted to kiss him and touch him and feel his hands on her body and – she wanted to be his mate.

The tears broke, and coursed a path down her cheeks.

"Claim me," she breathed, meeting his gaze. The certainty with which the words struck surprised her. She hadn't even realized the thought had crossed her mind. "Malfoy… Draco... I don't care, about the rest. I don't care about staying cursed."

"Granger," he whispered, eyes wide. He choked, "You know I can't do that."

"If it's going to come to this in the end," Hermione murmured, shifting closer to him, "don't put yourself through any more pain."

"It isn't going to come to this," Malfoy breathed, his eyes darting around frantically. "You never told me what the letter from Bill said."

"Nothing we didn't already know," Hermione said, absently tracing a pattern on the fabric of the couch with her finger. "The curse has a hold on my magic – he doesn't know how to lift it. There isn't a way out, Draco."

"Granger," he hissed, his tone warning as his eyes flashed, desperately searching her gaze. "I'm not doing this."

"It would be us doing it," she whispered, tears still racing down her cheeks, "together."

A breath hitched in her throat as she shifted closer, one hand lifting to dig into his hair. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips, as he turned to face her, his face dropping against the back of the couch.

Hermione pressed her forehead to his, and moved her hair out of the way with one hand.

"I want to be bonded with you," she whispered, and she could feel his soft groan at her words.

"I can't do it, Granger," he murmured, his eyes narrowing. "Please – don't do this."

"Don't you want it?" Hermione gasped, feeling the heat from his body crashing over her as she shifted even closer; she was nearly on his lap. Her eyes felt so heavy at his closeness – never had she imagined how completely the need for him could consume her mind.

"Of course I –" he growled, hands grasping at the hem of her shirt. "You have no idea how badly – Granger, this isn't right. Not like this. You aren't thinking clearly."

"I want it," Hermione breathed into the skin of his skin, basking in the pheromones rolling between them. She lifted her face to his; his grey eyes were practically glowing silver.

"You have to move away, Granger," Malfoy bit out, his breathing ragged. "I can't – it's the pheromones –"

Hermione hovered her lips alongside his, wanting so desperately to taste him. Her hands slid through his hair and landed on his face.

"Granger," he muttered, his eyes sliding shut at their closeness, and his breath, warm and enticing, hit her lips. "Snap out of it – fuck, _please_. Granger, you're fucking _crying_."

She couldn't hear the words – she could only read them from his mouth as she stared, utterly fixated. She blinked. She looked into his grey eyes, her chest heaving, as tears continued to streak down her cheeks.

She sat back, releasing his face. She blinked again, and the haze began to clear. Her ears were ringing in an insidious sort of way.

Exhausted and frustrated, she moved away from him, sitting at a safe distance. Glancing sideways at him, she pressed her lips together as they made eye contact.

"Sorry," she murmured. "I don't know… what that was… pheromones?" She shook her head, swiping angrily at the dried tear tracks on her cheeks.

"Yeah," he said with a heavy exhale. "Call it even?"

"Yeah." She frowned. "You really ought to fix the door."


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note _:_** Hi friends. Thanks so much for continuing to follow along with this fic. I'm currently working on chapter 18, and if I finish writing this story in advance, I'll increase the update frequency :) I hope you enjoy the chapter, and please let me know what you think!

I also wrote a quick little summertime drabble last night, so in case anyone's into that sort of thing, check it out! (Shameless plug because I can.)

Thanks to Kyonomiko for all the hours spent talking through this crazy fic with me.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 _ **September 14, 2002**_

Draco leaned back in his seat and tried to ignore the healers poking and prodding at him, with their obnoxiously bright robes and their neverending tests.

Apparently, a veela _choosing_ to delay the mating bond was cause for concern.

Not that Draco was going to tell them the real reason he and Granger hadn't moved forward, despite her assurances that she was willing to accept him.

As a relatively well-known magical creature, Draco received enough untoward treatment. He couldn't imagine how they would react to Granger if they knew the truth about her condition. He would _not_ submit his mate to such an analysis; he refused to see her treated like a zoo animal.

"Any strange occurrences with your magic?" the healers were asking. Draco pressed his lips together and shook his head no. "A _lumos_ , if you will."

Rolling his eyes, Draco performed the rudimentary spell with his wand. He wasn't going to let them know he could do the spell wandlessly as well. Wizards were quick to jump on any magical creature with unusual magic, and Draco wasn't keen on letting them know his wandless magic had been steadily developing since he had manifested.

And he was even less interested in them knowing that his wandless magic had recently begun to regress.

It tended to come easier when he was with Granger – but since the incident in the cave, followed by the incident in his flat, Draco had been intentional to keep his hands off his mate.

It was for the best – a mantra he had repeated to himself again and again. But closeness and physical contact with Granger provided him strength, both physically and magically.

The longer things went on, the more Draco could feel the strain.

It had been a month and a half since he had found his mate. And it had been some of the best – and most difficult – days of his life.

He had trouble expressing to Granger exactly how much he struggled somedays. How occasionally he couldn't get out of bed to visit her in her cave. How the longing to be near her, to touch her, often developed into a physical agony.

Not only because he didn't want to concern her, but because he didn't want her to make any impulsive decisions. Draco refused to take her chance at breaking the curse away from her. And he knew, if she realized the depth of his struggles, she would want to help.

Draco sighed heavily as he performed some other rudimentary spells, and the healers carried on with their endless battery of spells.

A month and a half. And by Draco's calculations, from the discovery of his mate onwards, he had between three and six months before the veela would begin to wither away without the completion of the mating bond.

And while Bill Weasley had suggested the strength of Draco's manifestation might mean he would last longer, Draco had bit back the response that he suspected it would be the opposite. That because Draco had manifested so strongly, that he would suffer all the more, and sooner.

The thought that he might have less than two months left to live was a sobering one.

"Draco!" he glanced up and chewed his tongue as his mother breezed into the examination room. "I apologize for being late."

"It's fine," Draco said with a sigh. "You aren't required to attend, you know."

"I know," Narcissa Malfoy said, her blue eyes narrowing slightly. "But I had to check in on your condition myself, given you won't tell me anything. The fact that I had to learn about your _mate_ because you were in the hospital!"

"Well, my condition is fine," Draco said, waving a hand. He glanced at the healers. "Right?"

One of the healers quickly schooled a grimace into a stoic nod.

"As well as can be expected, without the bond being completed, Mr Malfoy," the other healer responded. Draco felt a sudden twinge in his stomach.

"There you are, then," he said, turning to his mother with a tight smile. "Right as rain."

"Draco," Narcissa said, her voice stern, and Draco steadied himself for the lecture he had been expecting. "I know you want to go about this the right way, but doesn't Miss Granger realize how hard this is on you?"

"She certainly does," Draco said, forcing himself to keep his tone pleasant.

"And if he carries on like this," Narcissa said, turning to the healers with a flippant wave of one hand, "how long will he survive?"

"Mother," Draco hissed, his eyes narrowing.

"It's hard to say, Mrs Malfoy," the first healer said, his voice wavering slightly. "Two months? Three? Perhaps longer… it's truly difficult to say."

"Two months," Narcissa said evenly, turning back to Draco, her mouth a tight line. "Does Miss Granger realize her games are costing you your life? Your magic?"

"Mother, she's brilliant," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "She can calculate time. And if you _must_ know, Hermione is willing to complete the bond. _I_ am the one who suggested we wait."

"But _why_ , Draco? What purpose could this possibly serve? Get to know one another _after_ , when you can maintain your health." Narcissa's brow furrowed and her jaw twitched; Draco braced himself for her anger.

"It just matters, alright?" Draco hissed. "It is a decision for Granger and I to make."

Narcissa pursed her lips but turned away. Obviously, she didn't want to make a scene in front of the healers, who were steadfastly ignoring the spat.

"Fine," Narcissa said finally, idly, as if she were unconcerned. "Come for dinner next week. Wednesday."

"Wednesday is Granger's birthday," Draco said, frowning.

"Friday," Narcissa said quietly. "Andromeda was pleased to learn Miss Granger is to be your mate. She is looking forward to seeing her again."

"Friday," Draco acquiesced, knowing better than to disagree. Hopefully having Andromeda and Teddy there would help to diffuse any potential situations between Granger and his mother.

"Very well," Narcissa proclaimed, still looking rather put out. She lingered for another few minutes, while the healers completed their tests and offered their professional assessment of the situation.

It was bleak, it wasn't likely to improve, and they _highly_ suggested he complete the bond post-haste.

Draco exhaled heavily through his nose. Sod them all.

 _ **September 19, 2002**_

Draco Apparated into the Forest of Dean and made his way to Granger's cave. He tried to ignore the jolt in his chest at the way her eyes lit up upon seeing him.

"Hi!" she exclaimed, jumping up from her ubiquitous stack of books. Draco would have been surprised she was still researching the situation, if it wasn't for the fact that he knew her better than that.

"Hi, Granger." He briefly returned her embrace before pulling away and stepping back. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks," she said, offering him a smile. "You know, most people tend to forget my birthday."

"By most people, you mean Potter and Weasley," Draco said with a smirk. Her facetious eyeroll gave him the answer. "Well, as you know, I'm not most people. I've got you a gift. Hope you like it."

He rummaged in his pocket for a small box; her eyes widened in a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

"Just open it," Draco said with a wry grin.

Cautiously, she opened the small box, and with an almost inaudible gasp, she drew the silver bracelet from within. Draco smiled absently at the look on her face as she gaped at him.

"Malfoy!" she exclaimed, "this is too much."

"No such thing," Draco said softly.

He had selected the bracelet, a silver chain with small emeralds and rubies embedded in the centre, complete with two small charms – one of a lion, and the other a pair of wings. As well, she could clip additional charms onto it, if she chose.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, fingering the tiny diamonds in the wings.

"Something to remember the beginning of our time together," he murmured. Wings for his veela – lion for her curse.

And if it came to it, something for her to remember _him_ by.

From the look in her eyes, he could tell she realized those same words he hadn't wanted to say out loud.

"I love it," she said, giving him a brilliant smile. "Help me do it up?"

"Of course," Draco said, fidgeting with the clasp around her wrist. "What do you want to do for your birthday? I am at your command, for as long as you want me here."

He grinned as she laughed, and pretended to think.

"I don't want to do anything fancy," she said finally. "Can we just hang out? Maybe get some take-out later?"

"Like we do most days?" Draco asked, snickering.

"Yes," Granger said, rolling her eyes. "Only you've been around less lately."

"Sorry," Draco said, shrugging. How could he tell her he was afraid the closer he grew to her, the more he feared he wouldn't be able to simply walk away when the time came? It was the ultimate inner turmoil, since he also wanted to be near her so badly he couldn't stand it. "I've had a lot on the go, I suppose."

He hadn't. He'd moped around the flat until Theo had grown annoyed with him. He had tried to go to the apothecary, but Master Herrero had assured him the potions would still be there after he had dealt with the matter of his manifestation.

Draco thought Herrero might have suspected his unmated veela temperament might affect the way the potions brewed. He had read it could be possible.

"Right," Granger said, and her smile faltered as she began to shuffle a deck of cards. "Sometimes I forget you have a life of your own outside my little cave."

Draco wanted to tell her he would gladly lock himself in her cave forever.

He frowned at the sudden sadness that overtook her demeanour. He wondered how lonely she was out here on her own, when he wasn't around. He was suddenly struck with a sharp stab of guilt.

"I really don't," he found himself saying. "I can't even carry on with my apprenticeship yet. I'll come around more often, if that's what you'd like. I guess sometimes I think you'd rather be on your own than have me lingering around all the time."

"I like spending time with you," Granger said quietly.

Draco swallowed heavily, and picked up the cards she had begun to deal.

"Well I like spending time with you, as well," he said absently, avoiding her gaze. "Funny how things change, isn't it?"

"Yes," she said, though her tone of voice suggested she thought it was anything but funny. "Imagine someone telling us a year ago, that we'd be sitting here, playing cards. And that _you_ would be the person I most want to spend my birthday with."

She had a nostalgic, tragic sort of smile on her face and Draco couldn't stand how badly he wanted to kiss her. To lean in, across the array of blankets and –

"You're so beautiful," he breathed, swallowing. Surprised, she glanced up and met his eyes.

"Thank you," she murmured, her brow furrowing in dismay. Draco quickly looked away, playing his turn.

"So tell me," he said, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. "If you figured out a way to escape your curse, _tomorrow_ , for instance, what's the first thing you'd do?"

"Aside from accept the bond?" she asked softly. Draco chewed his tongue and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Granger, aside from that. Pretend I don't factor in to the situation."

"I tend to avoid thinking about things like that," she said, frowning. "I suppose I would try to see about my parents again."

"Of course you would," Draco said with a soft chuckle. "Always thinking about others, aren't you?"

"Yes," she said, meeting his gaze again. "What about you, then? Say I wasn't cursed, and we bonded tonight." She swallowed and looked away. "What would you do or where would you go?"

"Easy," Draco said with a grin. "I'd take my new mate on a proper honeymoon."

"Where to?" she asked, so quietly Draco had to strain to hear her.

"France," Draco said, tilting his head. "Italy, Greece, Spain. _Canada_."

"Canada?" she said, chuckling. "That's awfully far."

"Where else?" Draco breathed, meeting her gaze. "We ought to have a list, for one day in the future, you know." He paused, the corners of his mouth turning up. "For the day when you're no longer cursed, and we're mated, and we have the rest of our lives ahead of us, unhindered. Where, Granger, do we go?"

Granger simply stared at him and for a long, horrifying moment, Draco thought she was about to break into tears. That was _not_ his intention.

"New York," she suddenly blurted, and there were tears in her eyes but she was smiling. "New York at Christmas time. I've always wanted to see Times Square at Christmas."

"New York at Christmas it is," Draco said softly.

"And the caribbean," Granger said, her eyes lighting up. "There are these magical cruises –"

"I've heard of them," Draco said, leaning forward. "And they take you around the early magical settlements, yeah?"

"Yeah," Granger said, her eyes sparkling now. "And they also stop in the Muggle ports, and you can go scuba diving and parasailing and deep sea fishing."

"Let's do that," Draco said, swallowing. "That sounds fun. I don't know what any of that is, but we should do it."

"We absolutely should," Granger breathed, her tone reverent. She brushed her hand against his, and Draco clasped hers tightly, their cards lying forgotten. "We will."

"Okay," Draco choked. He forced himself to keep breathing, to keep from breaking down. It was a future he so desired, and could see so clearly – but they would never have. She would go on the cruise, someday, with someone else. "What else?"

Granger thought for a minute, and absently brushed at her eyes with her free hand, the other still held tightly within his. "We should go on a safari in Africa."

"Yes," Draco nodded. "And the penguins – in Antarctica. We should see them too."

"Polar bears, too," she agreed, "at the North Pole. Because we'll have heating charms."

"I imagine we would still be freezing," Draco murmured, smirking. "We'd have to huddle for warmth."

"That'll be fine," Granger said coyly, "because we'll be mated, and we won't have to worry about any of this." Her fingers rotated to entwine with his, dancing across the back of his hand.

"Merlin, Granger," Draco said, and let his head slump forward, his hair falling in his face "You don't know how _badly_ –"

"I know," she breathed, cutting him off. She sniffed, and when Draco looked up she was wiping away tears. "I know how difficult this has been for you, and how hard you've fought against your nature. This has been so unfair to you, and I wish against _everything_ this was all different. I wish we had _time_."

He stared at her for a long moment. _Time_. It was a luxury he had never allowed himself to consider. She stared back, her eyes glossy and her brow furrowed.

"Don't cry, Granger," Draco said softly, wiping the tears from her cheeks with his free hand. "It's your birthday. I didn't mean to make you unhappy."

"I'm crying because you make me _happy_ ," she said quietly. "And you're putting yourself through immeasurable pain for me."

"You haven't given up on me, Granger," he said, chewing his tongue, "and for that, I'll endure anything."

Granger simply stared at him for another long moment, and squeezed his hand impossibly tight. She sniffed again, and wiped a fresh set of tear tracks. She breathed, "I think it would be so easy to love you."

"Don't," Draco said, wincing. He let out a long breath. "Please don't." When Granger frowned, Draco elaborated, "I don't want you to get locked in the curse."

His heart was pounding and breaking simultaneously. How he longed to hear those words from her – but he dreaded them more.

"I don't know if it works that way," she said quietly, shaking her head. "I wish I knew."

Draco looked up sharply, his brow furrowing. "You haven't asked me a single riddle since I got here."

Granger stared at him, her lips pressed together. "You're right." She hesitated for a moment, as if searching her mind, her eyes flickering side to side. "Nothing."

"What do you think that means?" he pondered, then frowned. It felt disarming – insidious. "It makes me nervous. What if the magic of it is acting up?"

"The thousand days isn't up for six months yet," Granger said with a frown. "And I was just a lion earlier."

"Have you noticed anything else strange?" Draco asked, chewing his lower lip. Maybe they should ask Bill what he thought. Usually she would have asked him several riddles by now.

Granger consciously avoided his gaze for a long moment, before tilting her head. "Yesterday, I couldn't… transform. For about an hour."

"Granger!" Draco exclaimed, his heart immediately racing. "You should have told me right away."

"I didn't want you to worry," she said quickly, staring at him. "It was fine, after a while."

"Has that ever happened before?" Draco asked tersely, running a hand through his hair. "When things like that happen, will you tell me straight away?"

He felt numb – guilt and shame were washing over him in waves. How had he not noticed the curse was backfiring and acting strange? He had no doubt he was responsible.

"I will," she said, her voice sounding small. "I was researching it when you arrived today." She gave him a look. "I knew you would try to blame yourself for it."

"Damn right I'm going to blame myself!" Draco exclaimed, feeling his palms grow warm. His shoulder blades began to itch. "My _mate_ is suffering from an unknown curse and I can't help her."

"Like _you're_ suffering from the manifestation, and _I_ can't help _you_?" she asked, eyes flashing.

"Yes, like that," Draco said dismissively, "except for the fact that this is entirely my fault!"

"And this is why I didn't tell you," Granger said, ripping her hand from his and throwing her hands up in the air in frustration.

Draco glared at her, trying to force his breathing to slow. His wings were dangerously close to making an appearance. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to convince his veela senses she wasn't in any immediate danger. "I just… Granger, I don't want to see you deal with this curse any longer than you need to, you know?"

"I know," she said, deflated of her ire. She frowned, her brows knitting together. "I understand, because I hate to see you struggle as well."

Draco rubbed his hands down his face. "We'll get out of this, Granger." He shook his head. "I don't know how, but we will, alright?"

"Right," Granger said, nodding, and the word sounded empty. "Of course we will."

They fell into an uneasy silence, until Granger picked up her cards. "It's your turn."

Draco drew a card and discarded it. "You know where we _truly_ need to go, Granger?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "I know."

"Australia."

"Yeah." She sighed. "I had wanted to avoid it, but..."

"I know you spent a lot of time there already," Draco said, shaking his head. "But if there's a chance we can find the Witch Doctor? Maybe if I try talking to him."

"I have no idea what to expect," Granger admitted, and Draco realized with a sudden clarity she was scared. This was the man – the sorcerer – who had cursed her. "Like I told you before, I had a hard time with the riddles, and trying to find the Witch Doctor again on my own… I didn't really make any progress there. That's when I gave up and came back to England to keep searching for answers from here."

"It'll be different," Draco said, wishing for the first time in his life he possessed some of that Gryffindor bravery he used to mock her for. "We'll be together, yeah? We'll find him."

Granger chewed anxiously on her lower lip as she took her next turn. "And if we do?"

Draco swallowed, meeting her gaze. "I haven't got that far with the plan yet, have I?"

"When?" Granger asked, frowning.

"Let's figure some things out first. Next month maybe," Draco said absently. He glanced up, remembering. "We've got to go for dinner at my Aunt Andromeda's on Friday."

"That'll be nice," Granger said distractedly, and Draco could tell her mind was still racing. "I haven't seen Andromeda or Teddy in a while."

"Neither," Draco said, though he wasn't concerned about a family dinner. "We'll plan ahead, Granger. We can contact guides, or whatever we need to do. We'll go in prepared, yeah?"

"Yeah," Granger said, with a sharp nod, and a small smile. "If he made the curse, he can undo it, right?"

"Definitely," Draco said, even as he swallowed hard. "We'll start planning soon. But for tonight – we're celebrating your birthday."

Granger laid down her hand with a victorious grin. "I win. Are you hungry?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Absolutely. Let's go."


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note _:_** Chapter ten! Thanks so much to everyone who's stuck by this fic so far. I love you all. And sorry for the angst last chapter. :3

Alpha love to Kyonomiko.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 _ **September 21, 2002**_

Hermione paced anxiously as she waited for Malfoy to arrive, fidgeting with her dress. She couldn't remember the last time she had worn a dress, and it felt strangely disarming.

She hadn't even owned anything remotely appropriate for dinner with Narcissa Malfoy, and had snuck into a Muggle boutique that morning and purchased the dress with a couple of her last Muggle notes.

It was of a dark purple, with a sweetheart neckline and a knee-length, flowing skirt, and she couldn't help but hope Malfoy would like it. Especially after how he had treated her for her birthday two days prior. She had even put a little effort into taming her riotous curls.

A flush crept to her cheeks. Despite everything, and all the issues that lay before them, he had really started to grow on her. And dare she say, she had come to care for him.

She had meant what she had said to him on her birthday – it would be easy to let him in, to get to know him better, to fall for him.

Even though they had been childhood enemies, and even though his interest in her was borne of the veela instincts – there was something soft and reassuring in his eyes as he gazed at her that allowed Hermione to believe it wasn't simply the drive to claim her as his mate anymore.

And she had long since dropped the youthful animosity that had existed between them.

Malfoy ducked through the entrance into her cave, his nicely styled hair nearly grazing the stone entryway. He was dressed in a pair of black trousers that hung delectably from his hips, a slate grey shirt and a silver tie that brought out his eyes.

Hermione averted her gaze when she felt her face grow hot again. He usually looked nice – it went with the veela genetics – today he looked _good_.

"Hi," he murmured, glancing up as he fastened a crystal cufflink, and then he did a double-take, blinking several times. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Granger, you look good enough to eat. Let's just skip dinner and stay here, hmm?"

Hermione snickered at his reaction, even as her stomach did a pleasant flip at the connotation of his words.

"Thank you," she murmured delicately, nodding her head in gratitude. "You look very sharp."

"I mean it," he said, shoving his hands awkwardly into his pockets. "That's a beautiful dress. When did you get it?"

"Just today," Hermione said, walking towards him. "I'm glad you like it. I wasn't sure – with your mother and all."

Malfoy waved a dismissive hand. "I think you could show up in a ratty old shirt and my mother would still be happy that I've found my mate."

"Until she learns I spend half my time as a lion?" Hermione teased, a gentle waver to her tone betraying the easy way with which she spoke. "And that I'm cursed, and it's my fault we haven't completed the mating bond?"

"It'll be fine, Granger," Malfoy said, nudging her in the shoulder. "My mother doesn't know anything she doesn't need to. You can tell her about your curse if you like, but as far as she knows, it's because of me that we haven't moved ahead."

"I'll trust your judgement," Hermione said softly. "Shall we go?"

"Unfortunately," he said, rolling his eyes. A wicked smirk crossed his features. "Though I would like it to be known, I would much rather stay here."

"Same," Hermione whispered, a breath catching in her throat at his forwardness.

"But alas," he murmured, his grey eyes sparkling as he offered his arm. Hermione slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, and within moments felt the familiar tug of Apparition.

* * *

Draco relinquished his hold on Granger as soon as they landed at Andromeda's house, despite every fibre of his being demanding he take her far away and keep her to himself.

She didn't realize what that dress was doing for her shapely legs. And her arse. Draco forced himself to look away, swallowing heavily.

He led her towards the door, and lifted a hand to knock when the door flew open and a small boy with turquoise hair stood in the threshold, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet.

"Draco!" Teddy exclaimed, launching himself at Draco, who gently returned the boy's embrace and quickly extricated himself from the situation.

"Little man," Draco greeted with a grin, once he was safely by Granger's side once more. "How are you?"

"Fine," Teddy said, rubbing his face. "Grandma says I can't fly before dinner." Then the boy turned to Granger, gaping widely. "Hermione! What are you doing here?"

"I'm here with Draco," Granger said, offering the boy a winning smile. She ducked to his level, keeping her dress proper with one hand. "You shouldn't be opening the door, you know. What if we were strangers?"

"Sorry, Hermione," Teddy said with a shrug. "Draco, can we go flying after dinner?"

"Of course," Draco said with a chuckle. "Have you been working on what I taught you last time?"

"Yes!" Teddy exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. The young boy started telling Draco all about a spill he had taken the week before attempting some sort of maneuver, and how angry Andromeda had been. Draco met Granger's eye reassuringly as Teddy dragged him toward the lawn where his broom was laying.

Granger hesitantly made to follow but Draco nodded towards the opening door with a wink.

* * *

Hermione turned to the door to see Narcissa and Andromeda approaching.

"I've told that boy not to answer the door," Andromeda said, shaking her head. Then she embraced Hermione in a tight hug. "Hermione, it's so wonderful to see you. And under such… interesting circumstances!"

"Most definitely," Hermione said, returning the motherly hug with a faint sting of nostalgia. "It's lovely to see you as well, Andromeda."

"Miss Granger," Narcissa said with a nod, once Hermione stepped back.

"Hello Mrs Malfoy," Hermione said, tilting her head gently. "It's wonderful to see you as well."

"And you," Narcissa said, rather stiffly, compared to how the woman had acted when they had both been at Malfoy's bedside at St. Mungo's. But then the woman offered a tight smile. "Please, dear, call me Narcissa. We are to be family, after all."

"Certainly," Hermione said with a smile, ignoring the twinge of guilt in her stomach. She wasn't sure how long she could lie to Malfoy's mother about her curse. "And call me Hermione."

Narcissa nodded primly, her hands clasped together.

Hermione glanced out to the lawn, where Teddy was still talking Malfoy's ear off. The blond winked when he saw her looking, responding to the boy with some sort of extravagant hand gesture.

"Those two can talk about flying all day," Andromeda said with an affectionate smile. "Please, come in. Dinner is nearly ready."

With one last glance in the direction of Malfoy and Teddy, Hermione swallowed and followed Andromeda and Narcissa into the house. She tried to tell herself she was merely concerned the riddles would choose an inopportune time to return, but something about seeing Malfoy interact with his young cousin set off butterflies in her stomach.

Not least of all for the fact that his life was literally on the line if they couldn't find any answers in Australia, as well as his relationships with everyone present.

Hermione made small talk with Narcissa and Andromeda, sipping a delicious glass of wine apparently made from the finest grapes at the Malfoy vineyards in France.

Finally Malfoy entered the house, a joyfully shrieking young boy in his arms, hair in various shades of lime green and teal.

"Draco," Narcissa said, disapproving. Malfoy snickered and set Teddy down on the couch beside Hermione, while he sat on her opposite side. Instinctively, Hermione shifted closer so her leg nearly touched his. His fingers drifted absently across the back of her hand.

Her eyes flickered to meet his. He tensed, holding her gaze, imploring. Hermione offered him a tight smile.

"So Hermione," Andromeda said, a wide smile on her face despite the somewhat tense air of the room. "What have you been up to these days?"

"Not a lot," Hermione said, a nervous chuckle forcing its way out of her throat.

"She's recently moved back from Australia," Malfoy interjected, nodding.

"Oh, how wonderful," Andromeda replied. Narcissa nodded as well, her painted lips lifting into a smile.

"And what took you to Australia?" Narcissa asked politely. A house elf offered her a cup of tea and the woman sipped from it obligingly.

The elf held out a cup of tea to Hermione, wide-eyed. Hermione, startled, took the cup. "Er, thank you," she murmured, not wanting to cause a scene, but vowing to keep a close eye on the elf's welfare. "Actually, my parents live there. I moved there following the end of the war, to be closer to them."

"That's lovely," Andromeda said with a smile. "I'm sure they appreciated that."

"Yes," Hermione said, unable to smile. She took a long sip of her tea, scalding her tongue in the process. Somehow, the elf had known her tastes exactly; the tea was sweetened just right, with a splash of milk.

"I'm taking some time off from my potions apprenticeship," Malfoy announced to the room at large. "Master Herrero thought it would be best, while the most intense of the veela hormones run wild. It's given Granger and I time to get to know one another without rushing into things."

Narcissa pressed her lips together in another lukewarm smile. Hermione suspected Narcissa was not altogether pleased that they still hadn't completed the bond.

"Fantastic," Andromeda exclaimed, clearly the more expressive of the two sisters. "That will make for a more seamless transition, then, won't it?"

"That's the intention," Malfoy said, nodding. Hermione glanced sidelong at him, realizing what he was doing. "Mother doesn't quite see it that way, but it makes sense to us."

He offered his aunt and mother a dashing grin.

"Nonsense, Narcissa," Andromeda said, waving a hand. The blonde sister's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "Let the kids do as they see fit."

"Of course," Narcissa said, tilting her head. "I respect their choices. Only, I rather think Draco would be much better off if he wasn't struggling _so_ much."

"All love is a struggle, isn't it?" Malfoy said, chuckling. Hermione chewed on the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing derisively at the bizarre scenario.

Narcissa offered him another smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm just so thrilled Draco has found his mate. It was never something Lucius and I had to deal with, of course. You can't begrudge a mother the chance to properly welcome her son's partner into the family."

"And I certainly don't," Malfoy clipped. Hermione was glad she didn't have to contribute very much to the conversation, which seemed as if it could easily go sour. "And as I've told you, when the time comes, Hermione and I will fully commit to one another."

"With a wedding," Narcissa said quickly. "Not just the mating bond."

"Yes, of course," Malfoy said, offering Hermione a slow, crooked smile that made her stomach twist and jump about. His thumb was still absently stroking the back of her hand, and Hermione could sense the pheromones pouring through the connection.

"Definitely," she found herself saying. Marriage. Somehow the thought hadn't really formulated as anything but an abstract concept. She smiled at Narcissa, offering a figurative olive branch. Narcissa smiled in return, and Hermione suspected it was genuine. "I'm looking forward to it."

"As am I," Malfoy murmured, his tone scintillating as he lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing his lips against the back of it. Instantly, Hermione's heart leapt into overdrive and she couldn't tear her gaze from his.

Her throat was dry, and she knew she ought to look away, but his grey eyes had her held captive, until –

" _Draco_ ," Teddy scoffed. "You're getting _married_?"

"Absolutely," Malfoy said with an easy grin, as he averted his gaze and turned to his cousin.

Flushing, Hermione avoided looking at Narcissa or Andromeda, though she could see them exchange a glance through her peripheral vision.

"Dinner is ready!" the elf announced from the threshold of the sitting room.

"Thank Merlin," Hermione muttered under her breath. Malfoy poked her in the side as he stood alongside her. Teddy ran ahead into the dining room, Andromeda scolding him as she and Narcissa followed.

"No riddles?" Malfoy asked in a quiet tone, his brow furrowing. "It makes me… nervous. Like the magic is changing."

"Not yet," Hermione breathed. She forced a smile. "But you'll be the first to know."

"This is fine, right?" he asked, searching her eyes. "Mother's a bit testy we haven't completed the bond, but only because she's worried about me. She respects our decision, ultimately, and she appreciates you. I know she does."

"Okay," Hermione whispered, letting out a long exhale. "Yes, this is fine. I'm glad we're here together."

"Of course," he said, snickering. "I wouldn't have sent you in here alone."

Hermione elbowed him lightly in the ribs and followed the group into the dining room.

* * *

"Wasn't so bad, was it?" Draco asked, nudging Granger in the shoulder as they reclined on the couch in his flat, overstuffed from an incredible meal.

"No," she murmured, tilting her head back along the top of the couch. "I thought it would be worse. Your mother seemed to warm up after Teddy grew a beak."

"She doesn't like to admit it, but that boy is her soft spot," Draco explained with a grin. Much as he had been, when he had been Teddy's age. "And I knew she would. If anything, she was nervous to really meet you."

"Nervous," Granger scoffed. "Why would _I_ make _her_ nervous?"

"A lot of reasons," Draco said easily. "You were best friends with Potter, who essentially kept her out of Azkaban. You're a war hero. And, just because you and I don't necessarily see it this way, she sees my life in your hands – and _don't_ take that negatively, please. She just understands my condition well enough to realize the truth."

"Malfoy," Granger started, pressing her lips together. "Do you ever see your father?"

Draco hesitated, meeting her gaze. "Occasionally. He has visitation once a month, if I choose to see him. I haven't since my manifestation began. I don't think he's aware of any of this."

"Does your mother visit him?" Granger asked, nervously, as if she were overstepping some invisible line. As if Draco could possibly keep anything from her, even if he wanted to.

"I don't think so," Draco said quietly. "She's been living with Andromeda for almost three years now." He paused, chewing his lip. "I don't know how much my parents have to do with one another anymore."

"Do you think they'll divorce?" Granger asked, in that same, apologetic tone.

Draco snickered. "I don't think so. Divorce is not overly common in the wizarding world, though I hear in the Muggle world it's rampant. Different values, I suppose, although you never know. My mother is still young enough that she could meet someone new if she wanted to, I suppose. And with my father in Azkaban for at least ten more years…"

He trailed off, carding a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry," Granger blurted, her chocolate eyes wide.

"You aren't prying," Draco assured her. "If we figure a way out of this mess, they'll be your family one day, too. I just suppose… if my father gets out, even if they still want to make things work… they won't be the same people anymore, you know?"

"I understand that," Granger murmured thoughtfully. "I imagine it's been hard on your mother."

"Incredibly," Draco said, nodding. "At first, when my father was sentenced, she wouldn't leave the Manor. She wouldn't eat, she barely slept… I was the one to owl Andromeda, asking her for help. It's been good for Mother, to get out of that house, and to be with her family again."

"That was very considerate of you," Granger said, her brow furrowed.

Draco shrugged. "It wasn't entirely altruistic, I assure you. Her moping about grew irritating after a while." He snickered, shaking his head at the memories. "My parents were together since Hogwarts. She never learned how to live on her own, not really. My father was everything to her, for a long time."

"I can see that," she said, turning to face him, chewing her lower lip. "I suppose that's the one good thing about the situation with my parents. At least they still have each other, you know?"

"Yeah," Draco murmured, glancing sideways at her. Her expression was vacant, distant. "And you know they're happy, if nothing else. We'll check on them, when we get to Australia."

"I can't believe you're coming all the way to Australia with me," Granger said, flushing.

"Well," Draco said, brows high, "we're sort of running out of other options, aren't we? What else is a veela to do when his intended is cursed by a psychotic sorcerer?" He grinned, slinging an arm around her shoulders. He firmly tamped down on the veela pheromones that flared to life at the contact. "It'll be our first international trip together."

"I'm glad you've been so positive," Granger admitted, meeting his gaze. "It's really helped, you know?"

Draco huffed a laugh through his nose. "We're excluding the day I thought you rejected me and I went home to die, then."

"Yes," Granger whispered, sinking into his arm around her, "that day doesn't count because you didn't know the circumstances then." Her brown eyes were open, and a little sad as she gazed at him.

Theo walked into the sitting room and collapsed into the armchair across from them, tossing a bag of blood in the air. Draco rolled his eyes and leaned back, keeping his arm around Granger.

"Draco," Theo greeted, "Granger. Why am I not surprised to see you here?"

"I'm almost never here, Nott," Granger reminded him. Theo waved a hand dismissively and inspected the details on the bag of blood.

"Out for another night of terrorizing the good citizens of London?" Draco asked casually.

"Yes," Theo said with a nod, puncturing two holes in the bag with his fangs. "I'll have to stop by _work_." He punctuated the word with sharp air quotations. "My supply is low."

"Does no one notice the blood supply constantly diminishing?" Granger asked, looking incredulous.

"Of course not," Theo said, deadpan. He slurped from the bag and Granger cringed, almost unnoticeably sinking further into his arm around her. Draco tugged her closer, keeping a tight leash on the basking veela within him.

Draco snickered. If Granger stopped reacting to Theo's provocations, he would simply give up. He couldn't help but wonder whether a vampire or a fully grown lion would win in a fight, not that he ever wanted it to happen.

"You don't… turn anyone, do you?" Granger asked hesitantly, as if interested despite herself.

"No," Theo clipped. "The nocturnal life isn't for everyone, you know." He adjusted his hood further over his head and sank deeper into his seat. Draco wondered if Granger's scent bothered him. He and Theo had lived together long enough that he knew the vampire was used to him.

"Right," Granger said, nodding. "Okay, that's good. Why did you get turned?"

"Because," Theo said, taking another long sip. "The woman who turned me didn't see it the same way. She didn't think bagged blood was good enough, I suppose."

Granger considered the thought, her eyes lit with the fascination of learning Draco recognized so well.

"Do you wish you hadn't been?" she asked, leaning forward in her seat.

"Granger," Theo said, chuckling as he shook his head facetiously. "Would you like to be condemned to an immortal existence of consuming only blood, and going out only at night, and people being instinctively afraid of you, without realizing why?"

"I suppose not," she said, apologetically. Her brow furrowed as she opened her mouth to speak again.

"And that's the difference between you and I," Theo cut her off, grinning, his fangs evident. "Because I enjoy it. And I happen to live with a potions expert who invented a tonic so I can even go out during the day."

"You invented it?" Granger asked, turning to face Draco.

" _Altered_ it," Draco clarified, uncomfortable with the admiration in her gaze. "It was a formula to skirt around the initial breaking of dawn, for a vampire caught out longer than they meant to be. I just… tweaked the recipe and the duration so it lasts from dawn until dusk instead."

"That's impressive," Granger said, exchanging a look with Theo, who gave a pointed nod.

"It's saved my arse more than a few times," Theo acquiesced.

At least the two were finally in agreement on something, even though the topic was Draco's potions expertise.

"Well," Theo said, finishing his bag of blood and licking his lips ostentatiously, "I'd better get a move on. Lots to see, you know how it is. Draco, Granger; have fun, kids. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Which is nothing," Draco clarified, shaking his head. "Enjoy yourself."

Theo stood from his seat with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, and saw himself out of the flat.

Granger turned to Draco, mouth agape, shaking her head.

"He really is –" she cut herself off, eyes widening. "What can hold water even with holes?"

"Granger," Draco said, exhaling a sharp breath, his heart instantly racing. "A sponge, Granger."

"A sponge," she repeated, whispering. She grinned, eyes sparkling. "I never thought I'd be happy to ask you a riddle."

"Neither," Draco said, returning the smile, relief coursing through him, even as it mingled with the dread that the curse was alive and well. "Welcome back, Granger."


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note _:_** Hey guys. Thanks as always for all the support on this fic. So it seems you're all anxious to see them go to Australia (FFN readers), and so am I, but we've got a couple chapters to go yet. I've been second-guessing this story a LOT lately, and the only reason I'm still working hard on it is because of your wonderful, kind reviews, so if you guys want Australia, I'm going to increase the rate of updates until we get there (and we might actually see them have some fun for once).

I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think.

Alpha credits to the lovely Kyonomiko.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

Draco hummed idly to himself as he cast a keyword selection spell on the Malfoy Manor library. He was feeling good. After the brief spell a week prior, during which time Granger had most insidiously stopped asking riddles, nothing had been out of the ordinary.

They had fallen into an easy routine once more, researching, preparing for their trip to Australia, grabbing take-out, playing cards. They had started spending more time in his flat, and Granger and Theo seemed to be getting along decently enough.

Draco could see his life with her; there was no question in his mind. Even if it weren't for the veela, who was satisfied for the time being, residing in the back of his mind like an animal basking in the sunlight.

Everything was good.

Provided they could figure out a way to break the curse.

He tapped his foot and settled into a seat at one of the large, oak study tables in the centre of the library, waiting as books flew in from all corners of the library.

Australia, sorcery, strange ancestral magic in the Australian outback. He had promised Granger they would be prepared for their trip, and in proper Granger language, that meant research upon hours of research.

He had stopped by the Ministry the day before to secure an international Portkey, which could be activated upon command, whenever they were ready to leave.

He felt positive they would figure this out. He would do whatever it took to locate the Witch Doctor who had cursed her, and convince him to undo the curse. And then… Draco was trying not to think that far ahead.

After what felt like hours, given Draco's general proclivity to be by Granger's slender side at all times, the books finished flying around. Draco set one of the shelves aside for future reference, and shrunk a dozen or so books, stowing the miniatures safely in the interior pocket of his cloak.

If everything went well, they would be set to leave London sometime in early October. It had been nearly two months since he had discovered Granger was his mate, so Draco was looking forward to going sooner than later.

He stopped at Granger's favourite sandwich spot, picked up her usual, ham and swiss, and a roast beef for himself, and Apparated to the Forest of Dean.

"Granger," Draco murmured softly as he approached her cave. He knew she was out here; he could sense the faint thread that told him she was in her lion form. He peered into the dimly lit cave, allowing his eyes to adjust.

A soft whimper came from his right and Draco felt his heart drop. She was laying in her bed of blankets and grasses, her paws covering her face.

Carefully Draco approached her, setting the bag of sandwiches on the ground by the wall. Instantly his heart was racing, his palms heating up. He could tell by her scent and her emotional state that something was dreadfully wrong.

"Granger, can you not turn?" he murmured, rubbing a hand down his face. Faintly but clearly, the lion shook her head. Draco swallowed the lump in his throat. This was his fault. "Do you want me to go?" The lion shook her head again, and smacked the ground with a large paw.

Sighing, Draco sat carefully in the makeshift bed beside her. A pair of mournful, chocolate brown eyes turned to assess him.

"This is my fault, Granger." He turned away, wishing he could vanish. "I thought… I thought everything was okay." He swallowed, feeling his shoulder blades begin to itch. He choked, "If I hadn't pushed it… I need to just leave you alone."

The lion grumbled, a low tone that echoed through the cave.

"You don't deserve this," Draco said, shaking his head. "I want to help you, Granger… but I won't be the reason you get stuck this way." Another growl that faded into a quiet whimper. The lion walked over, peering closely at his face. Then she collapsed alongside him, her warmth pressing against him as she rest her head on his leg.

Hesitantly, Draco lifted a hand and dropped it on her soft head, stroking the fur behind her ears. Her large eyes squeezed shut, and as he felt a soft rumble against his leg, he realized she was purring.

"I'm so sorry, Granger," Draco whispered, carding his fingers through her fur. A large paw swatted him in the chest and her eyes had opened to glare at him. "What?" Draco hissed, brow furrowing. "If it wasn't for me you wouldn't be like this."

She dropped her face to his chest, shoving him bodily to lay back in the blankets and then settled, sprawled half across his chest and half on the ground, her large face blinking at him, her front paws resting on his shoulders.

Giving in, Draco arranged a pillow beneath his head and wrapped an arm around the massive cat, acutely aware of the fact that her long claws could slice him open with half a thought.

She nuzzled his throat, purring again, and Draco relaxed. "I know, Granger," he murmured. He sighed, turning his head away. "I know."

Her large eyes were squeezed shut when Draco chanced another look back at her, his heart seizing at the sight of her, trapped in her alternate form because of him.

"I brought you a sandwich," he nearly choked after a period of silence, asphyxiating on his own extreme self-loathing.

She huffed what might have been a laugh and rose, swatting clean through the paper bag with her claws. She snuffled at the sandwiches and batted one of them in his direction, slicing at the paper deli wrapper on the other with her large paw.

"I'll open it –" Draco began, as she loosened the sandwich, and snapped up the whole thing, sliced into rough pieces. Delicately, he removed the shredded paper from his own sandwich and ate it, then carefully resized the books from his pocket on the floor, as Granger re-settled herself on his chest, burrowing into him.

Draco felt his eyes sting with the heat of shame and disappointment, even as Granger purred softly against him until she drifted to sleep, the warmth of her body on his coaxing him into sleep as well and he couldn't help but drift off, mentally drained.

* * *

When Draco stirred the next morning, something felt wrong, and it took only a second to determine what it was. His eyes flew open, frantically taking in his surroundings.

He had fallen asleep on the floor of Granger's cave, and by the pale light of early morning streaming through the entrance, he had slept through the night.

But more alarming, was the fact that Granger was asleep in his arms – in human form.

Torn between giving in to an unrelenting desire to claim his mate, her scent overwhelming in such close proximity, and a need to push her away before he did something he would regret, Draco froze, suspended in a sort of indecisive agony, and simply watched her sleep, his eyes wide.

Until she blinked into awareness, and the chocolate of her eyes met his, her expression neutral.

They stared at one another, in a blank disbelief, until a flush crept into Granger's cheeks and she shifted away.

"Good morning," she murmured absently, moistening her lips.

"Morning," Draco responded, his voice low. "You must have shifted back… sometime in the night. I didn't…"

"Right," Granger said, rubbing her face. "I know." As an afterthought, she added, "Sorry."

"It's quite alright," Draco muttered, his eyes fixed on her pink lips, so close.

"That's never happened before," she breathed, and Draco continued to agonize in her closeness. "That I've shifted without consciously thinking about it."

Draco swallowed a heavy lump in his throat. "Your curse seems to be reacting unpredictably… and it's because of me." He rolled onto his back with considerable effort, running a hand through his hair, disheveled from sleep. "I need to leave you alone. The curse _needs_ you to be alone."

Granger continued to stare at him, and he could feel the soft, warm puffs of her breaths on his throat.

"I refuse to give up on this," she finally said. "On us. On _you_."

"You need to," Draco clipped. "For your own sake."

"We're so close," she whispered, chewing her lip. "What if we find answers in Australia?"

"What if we don't?" Draco countered instantly, harsher than he intended. Granger looked taken aback and he immediately regretted his tone. "I'm just saying… we need to be prepared for every eventuality." He took a deep breath. "I won't let you get trapped in this curse on my account, Granger."

"Well I'm not going to condemn you to die!" she exclaimed, her eyes flashing. "And don't you dare tell me that isn't my choice to make. I'm as involved in this as you are!"

Draco turned back to glare at her, but all he wanted to do was to protect her – to grab her, to claim her – and his expression fell. His heart was absolutely _pounding_ against his ribcage in her presence.

His mouth felt dry, tongue flicking out to moisten his lips.

"How could you want to sacrifice yourself on my account?" he breathed, gazing at her mouth again. She was so close, he could so easily kiss her –

Impulsively, he lifted a hand, tracing her cheekbone with his fingertips. His hand sunk into her wild hair and her eyelids fluttered shut.

"In the same way you're so willing to throw your life away because of me," she gasped, and Draco's hand tingled at the contact, his veela instincts roaring to life, his pheromones breaking free.

"I'm willing because you _are_ my whole life," Draco choked, fighting every instinct, every urge, to lean in and claim her mouth. "Because without you, I'd die anyway."

"And how," she whispered, her eyes opening to meet his, "is that so different from me? Do you think I could just go on – "

"Granger," he breathed, his tone low with warning, "you need to move away."

"No," she murmured, shaking her head. Her hand came up to grasp his. She ground through her teeth, "I _won't_ let you die. Draco, if I were to just accept –"

" _Don't_!" Draco exclaimed, his heart racing. Abruptly, he tore his hand from hers, wrenching himself away. Gasping, he hissed, "Don't accept it, Granger."

"Then don't give up," she implored, her brow furrowed, her face flushed. "We're going to find answers in Australia, remember?"

Draco sat up, his back against the wall, and dropped his head into his hands. "Australia," he ground out. "But if Australia doesn't work, Granger… that's it."

She pursed her lips, eyes flashing as she sat up as well, picking at the long grasses that grew between her eclectic mess of bedding. "I don't agree to those terms."

"I have another term," Draco carried on firmly, speaking into his lap. "If these… occurrences are going to be happening, I don't want to be worrying about you." He looked up, boring into her gaze. "Will you please come live in the third room of my flat? Even just for a while, just until Australia. You won't owe me a knut, Granger. I just… need to know you're safe."

He tensed, gearing himself up for an argument, but Granger simply stared at him, visibly deflating. "Okay. I'll do that."

"Really," he choked, running a hand through his hair.

"Yes," she said, with a jerky sort of nod. "I spend enough time as a human I suppose… it'd be nice to have an actual kitchen and proper facilities."

"I imagine so," Draco said, smirking. "Oh, and just ignore Theo if he bothers you."

"I can manage Nott," Granger said, rolling her eyes.

"Course you can," he said, offering her a smile. Draco swallowed hard, disbelieving she had given in so easily. "Today, then."

"Fine," Granger said, chewing her lower lip. "Today. But I'm leaving my cave warded in case I want to come back."

"That's fair," Draco said, inclining his head. He looked around the sparsely furnished cave. "Just your clothes and books, then?"

"Really all I need, isn't it?" she said with a shrug. With a wave of her wand, the small dresser and various stacks of books all shrunk to miniature versions and she stowed them in a pocket.

"I suppose that is all _you_ need," Draco acquiesced with a chuckle. He met her gaze and held out a hand; cautiously she slipped her hand into his and Draco Apparated the two of them into his flat.

* * *

Hermione sat on the bed in her new bedroom, her back leaned against the headboard, idly listening as Malfoy explained the wards in the flat.

She wondered whether she would feel trapped in a flat, being so used to the wilds of her forest and her cave, with its infinite fresh air access. She supposed she could always return to the forest and run if she felt the need.

It had been years since she had slept in a bed. With an idle flick of her wand, the books she had collected from Malfoy Manor flew into the empty bookshelf along the wall. Perhaps he would let her borrow more, so she could have some reading material that wasn't strictly for research.

If there was one good thing about the curse, it was that she hadn't had much need for money or employment, until Malfoy had come along. She had given up on staying in paid accommodations after she nearly mauled the proprietors of an inn outside of Brisbane, and once she had grown proficient enough at hunting, she hadn't needed money for food, either.

Not that she didn't prefer a nice, hot meal to the gamey forest critters to which she had grown accustomed. But it had been enough to survive on, and at the time, so wrapped up in scarcity as she had been, it had felt like enough.

It wasn't until Malfoy came into her life that she realized all the things she had so greatly missed. The comforts of a home, a delicious meal, companionship.

She glanced at the blond, who had stopped talking and was staring at her, his brow furrowed.

"Are you alright?" he asked, sitting cautiously on the edge of her bed.

"Yes," Hermione said, giving him a smile. "Just a lot to take in at once, you know?"

"I imagine it is," he murmured, "but it doesn't have to be different. I'll lend you some money to get your room properly sorted, if you like."

"I really ought to find a way to earn money for myself, if I'm going to be staying here," Hermione said, worrying her lip. The thought of being around people all day made her cringe. "Odd, _solitary_ jobs, maybe. I won't rely on you to pay my way."

"Just to get you on your feet," Malfoy murmured. "You aren't trapped here. You'll want to do things, won't you?"

"I doubt it," she murmured, looking around the room. "This feels like as good a place as any to continue my imposed solitude."

"At least you'll have company," he said with a grin.

At that, Nott poked his head through the door, his hazel eyes narrowing.

"Granger," he clipped. "Welcome."

"Thanks, Nott," Hermione said, relieved the vampire wasn't looking to grate on her nerves this time. Perhaps, in time, he would grow to accept her. Provided she didn't end up responsible for the death of his best mate. Which she wouldn't, if she had anything to say about it. She would sooner remain cursed.

Nott rotated the wooden chair at a desk along the wall, dropping down into it and folding his arms.

"There are rules here, you know, in case Draco hasn't mentioned them," Nott said.

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes. Perhaps Nott wasn't feeling as amiable as she had hoped.

"Shut it, Theo," Malfoy said, snickering.

Nott ignored him. "One: no parties." He held up a finger, and then another. "Two: clean up after yourself. Three: stay out of my room."

"I never intended to go in your room, Nott," Hermione said, meeting Malfoy's amused gaze. She chuckled. "Though now I just might."

Nott's eyes narrowed and he pointed a threatening finger her direction. " _Four_ ," he carried on, "if any owls ever arrive for me from St Mungo's, burn the letters without opening them, please."

Hermione snickered, shaking her head, even as she said, "Fine. Agreed on all counts."

"That reminds me," Malfoy said, leaning back on his forearms on the bed. "Theo doesn't eat food, obviously, but you and I can split the cooking if you like. Just don't expect gourmet. I've only learned to cook the last couple years."

"Well, I've never been particularly proficient either, so it goes both ways," Hermione said, finding herself relieved with how casual the arrangement seemed. "And besides, if you're letting me stay here, the least I can do is carry my own weight."

"Sure," Malfoy said, lifting his shoulders dismissively. "But like I said, this is as much for my peace of mind as for your convenience."

"Still," Hermione said absently, picking at the comforter on her new bed. "Has this room always been furnished?"

"Partially," Malfoy said, avoiding her gaze, as Nott snickered. "I may have prepared it, just in case you ever decided to move in."

"As in, he prepared it weeks ago," Nott said, grinning.

Malfoy pressed his lips together, as a faint pink flush crept to his cheeks. Hermione bit her lip on a smile.

"Well, I'm here now," Hermione said, poking his thigh with her socked foot. "Unless you get sulky and kick me out."

Malfoy scoffed but said nothing. Nott laughed out loud, fixing his ever-present hood over his head. The blond fixed her with a scowl and Hermione mock-pouted.

"I'm only teasing," she murmured. Suddenly Malfoy grabbed her calf, in range of his position at the foot of the bed, and tugged her towards him, so her head fell into the bedding. A soft scream of surprise tore from her throat, and she threw a pretend punch into Malfoy's shoulder.

Nott rolled his eyes. "If you could save it until I've left the room, please."

"Relax," Malfoy scoffed, releasing Hermione's leg and she quickly righted herself. "You're fine."

Nott looked between the two of them. "Rangy group we are, right? A vampire, a veela, and a bloody fucked-up sphinx." He shook his head, grinning. Hermione returned the grin and met Malfoy's gaze. "This should be interesting."


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note _:_** Well, I'm just going to say you all made me feel really lovely on the last chapter. I'm so happy you're all enjoying the story. And just to clarify, I've never intended to drop this story, I was simply having some issues working out future chapters but it's all sorted now.

I hope you'll indulge with me in a bit of a lighter-hearted detour from all the angst we've been dealing with lately. I hope you enjoy xo

Alpha credits to the lovely Kyonomiko.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 _ **October 1, 2002**_

"Draco!" Hermione glanced up from her book, her feet casually resting on the coffee table. From her vantage point she could see Nott's irritated expression poking surreptitiously into the hallway from his room.

"Malfoy isn't home," she called, and Nott's bloodshot eyes narrowed.

"Fuck! Where is he?" he hissed. "I need to speak with him. It's rather urgent."

"He's at St Mungo's," Hermione said, turning back to her book, flipping the page. "He's got an appointment."

"Damnit! Did he say when he'll be back?" Nott's floating head asked.

"Nope," Hermione clipped, lingering on the 'p' sound.

Nott sighed exaggeratedly, with a suspicious glance behind him into his room. "Can you owl him for me?"

Hermione huffed a breath, and set the book down. "He's busy, Nott. What do you need? Maybe I can help."

Nott grimaced and pressed his lips tightly together. After a long-suffering eyeroll, he slipped through the door and warded it behind him.

"I fucked up, Granger," he said, looking incredibly put out. Hermione stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate. He chewed his tongue for a long moment. "I had… an accident, last night."

"An accident," Hermione repeated, raising her brows. She snickered, shaking her head. "I mean, no judgement Nott, but don't most people grow out of bedwetting earlier in life than this?"

"Fuck off Granger," Nott said, rolling his eyes. "I had – an _accident_."

He glanced back in the direction of his room, not so subtly. Hermione's eyes widened.

"Is someone here, Nott?" she asked, staring at his closed and warded door. Startled, something clicked in the back of her brain. "Did you _turn someone_?"

Nott raised his hands defensively, his bloodshot eyes paranoid. "An _accident_ , Granger! Fuck!" He buried his head in his hands. "I have no idea what to do. It was a mistake – I got caught up, and she was going to die, and –"

"Breathe," Hermione said, grasping Nott's forearm. "Is she awake?"

"Awake, and on a rampage. She's drank my entire stash already, and is trying to escape. I can't in good conscience let her go," Nott explained rapidly, his eyes darting about. "She could incinerate herself, or attack who knows how many people –"

"Nott, slow down," Hermione said, chewing her lip.

"You shouldn't even be around for this!" Nott exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "If you get attacked, Draco will fucking _slaughter_ me. Fuck fuck fuck –"

"Quit panicking! I can be a lion in three seconds if I need to defend myself," Hermione exclaimed, eyes wide. "It could be worse, right?"

"I don't know," Nott said, breathing slowly. "Not really. I didn't mean to, Granger. I didn't want to _ever_ –" His tone, his expression, were pleading.

"I believe you," she said easily. "But we need to figure out what to do with her for the time being." She tilted her head, thinking. "Any ideas?"

"No!" Nott exclaimed, running his hands through his already disheveled hair. "I have no fucking idea what to do, and the she-vamp who changed me has blocked my owls."

"Well, what did _you_ do?" Hermione asked, matter-of-factly. "Obviously you made it through the transition alright. And you aren't _so_ bloodthirsty you can't control yourself."

"Draco helped me," Nott said quietly. "He bound me and found some bags of blood and forced me to drink them until I was rational again."

"Then do that?" Hermione asked, making a face.

"She has literally drank a week's worth of blood already!" he exclaimed. "And she didn't leave any for me, and she isn't showing any signs of thinking straight. And I can't just _keep_ her here."

"Okay," Hermione said, mind racing. "Here's what we're going to do."

Nott was gazing at her with a sort of hopeful desperation.

"I'll owl Malfoy, and ask him to sneak you some blood on his way back from St Mungo's," she began, deep in thought. She drew a sheet of parchment onto the coffee table and scribbled the quick missive, sending it off with Malfoy's owl.

Suddenly she was struck with another thought, accompanied with a memory.

"I've met another vampire before," she said quickly. "He might know how to deal with this."

Nott buried his face in his hands again; Hermione thought he might have been cursing quietly to himself.

"Who?" he finally croaked, looking up.

"He was an acquaintance of Professor Slughorn's," Hermione said, posing her quill thoughtfully above another sheet of parchment. "Though I'm not sure how to reach him, so we'll have to owl Slughorn himself."

"Slughorn," Nott groaned, throwing himself theatrically against the back of the couch. "What the fuck."

"Hey, I'm doing more than you are," Hermione hissed, growing irritated. "Quit feeling sorry for yourself, and we'll figure a way out of this together."

Nott glared at her for what felt like a long time, and for one tense, stifling moment, she thought he was going to attack her. She poised herself to shift, her nails advancing into claws.

Nott's bloodshot eyes flickered to her hands, and his brow furrowed.

"Fine, Granger," he murmured, deflating. "I appreciate your help. To be honest, you've given me less of a hard time than Draco probably would have."

Hermione frowned but didn't have a response. She drafted a brief, bare-bones explanation of the situation, and they sent Nott's owl to Slughorn, awaiting a response from the vampire Sanguini.

"Now what?" Nott breathed, slumping back into the couch. "We can't let her out. She's warded safely in there for now."

"Now, we just wait," Hermione said, shrugging. She chewed her lip, glancing at Nott. "Did you like her?"

"Her?" he asked, hooking his thumb over his shoulder, towards his room. "Barely knew her. Can't really say either way, I guess."

"Too bad," Hermione said, her eyes wide. "Maybe she can be your undead girlfriend."

The look Nott leveled her screamed unimpressed.

"Or not," Hermione said, holding up her hands defensively. She pressed her lips together, looking at Nott. "Do you want to play cards?"

* * *

When Draco arrived home from his appointment at St Mungo's, he was half expecting the flat to have been destroyed. If Granger and Theo were working together for whatever reason, requesting as much blood as he could possibly manage to smuggle from the hospital, it had to be bad news.

The only reason he hadn't instantly stormed out of his appointment was because Granger's emotional signature had been neutral.

If she was in danger, Draco would have felt it instantly.

But yet, as he stormed into the flat with a bag of stolen blood, he blinked.

"Go fish," Theo was saying, rubbing his temples as he stared at his hand of cards. Granger sighed and drew the top card from the deck, then excitedly exposed it to Theo, who grumbled under his breath.

"What the fuck is going on?" Draco asked, dropping into the couch and tossing the satchel of blood at Theo, who caught it without looking.

"We're playing cards," Theo said, quite seriously.

"Cards," Draco said, raising a skeptical brow. He glanced to Granger who shot him a conspiratorial look, her lips twitching. Draco leaned back in his seat, hands interlocked behind his head. "So that's why I was sent an urgent owl to steal as much blood as I could – which let me tell you, was a feat."

"Got thirsty," Theo snapped, pulling a blood bag from the satchel and breaking into it.

Draco pressed his lips together, huffing a breath through his nose. "Theo. What the fuck."

Theo released a beleaguered sigh, his head collapsing into his arms on the coffee table. His voice was muffled against his sleeve as he said, "I fucked up, Draco."

Draco turned to look at his oldest friend; something in Theo's tone halted his brain. Theo had always been relatively easy-going, despite – or maybe because of – the terrible way his father had treated him growing up, especially after his mother died. Theo had always turned to sarcasm and dark humour as a coping mechanism.

Draco had even been impressed with how easily his friend had taken his transition to vampirism.

But there was something in Theo's words, something Draco had seen only a handful of times in a lifetime of friendship. Something akin to pain.

"What happened?" Draco asked, his voice quiet.

Theo sat up, leaning heavily into the back of his seat. "I turned a girl. By accident."

Draco's heart plummeted in his chest. He ran a hand through his hair as Theo's baleful hazel eyes met his. "Where is she now?"

Theo's gaze flickered to the hallway.

"She's in your room, isn't she," Draco murmured, exhaling a long breath. "That's why you needed all the blood."

"I didn't know what to do, Draco," Theo said, imploring. "I didn't mean to do it."

"I know you didn't," Draco said quietly. "What are we doing about this?"

"She's out of control. Granger owled Slughorn," Theo said, nodding towards Draco's mate, who was chewing her lip nervously at the exchange.

"I remembered there was a vampire at his sixth year Christmas party, Sanguini, who –"

"I remember him," Draco said, blinking in surprise. "You suppose another vampire will know what to do with her." He looked between the two of them; Granger and Theo exchanged a glance. Draco shrugged. "It's a good idea. Hopefully it pans out."

"Hopefully," Theo whispered, staring blankly at the coffee table.

"Who was she?" Draco asked, then quickly corrected himself, " _is_ she."

"He said he barely knew her," Granger supplied absently. Theo nodded, his brow furrowed.

"Barely," he agreed, pondering. "She was a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff I think. Hufflepuff."

"Wait, she was in our year?" Draco asked, eyes widening. "What was her name?"

"Nott!" Granger exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "You never said she went to Hogwarts with us!"

"Well yeah," Theo said uneasily, picking at the couch. "That's how we got to talking, and then things happened and I invited her over and –"

"We get it," Draco said, holding up a hand. "I confess I didn't know any of the Hufflepuffs in our year. Do you know her name?"

Granger looked between the two of them, her brow knitted with panic.

"It was, ahh…" Theo trailed off, snapping his fingers several times. "Perks?"

"Sally-Anne?" Granger exclaimed, her mouth gaping widely. "You turned _Sally-Anne_ into a vampire? Merlin." She let out a long breath and sank back into the couch, clutching her chest.

Theo merely pointed a finger in Granger's direction, and continued looking put out with himself.

Granger huffed a breath, looking contrite. "We don't know how long it'll take to receive a response," she murmured, glancing at Theo. "Should we let her out of Nott's room?"

"Absolutely not," Draco clipped, scowling. "I'm not putting you at risk with a freshly transitioned vampire, old friend or not." Granger's eyes narrowed slightly but Draco held her gaze resolutely, pressing his lips together. "She will stay in there until we figure something out."

"I'll give her some of this blood, at least," Theo said with a weary sigh. He carried the satchel into the kitchen and left several of the bags on the counter, then walked the rest towards his room. Shortly thereafter he returned, slumping down into his seat again.

"Now what?" Granger asked, looking around the room. Then she answered her own question with a soft, "We keep waiting, I guess."

Draco gestured to their game of cards. "Deal me in, then."

* * *

A few hours, and several games of cards later, there was a quiet knock on the door.

Draco exchanged a grimace with Theo and then Granger, his heart racing at the mere thought of her being exposed to the dangers of vampires other than Theo, of course, who he would trust with his life.

"Please be ready to turn if you need to," he murmured quietly, her brown eyes flashing as she opened her mouth to respond. "Otherwise you're in the wards so you can Apparate from inside."

"I'm not leaving," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Of course you aren't," Draco grumbled, pressing his lips together.

He casually swung the door open, narrowing his eyes instinctively at the old vampire on the threshold, his long brown hair thick and unwashed, his grey and black striped robes tattered yet ostentatious.

Draco folded his arms as the vampire grinned, flashing his teeth, and peered into the flat from the doorway.

"I am Sanguini." The vampire had a nasally sort of voice with a thick Eastern accent, and Draco was glad when Theo approached the doorway, and relieved that Granger stayed back. Sanguini gestured pointedly at the threshold. "You have a lovely flat."

Draco glanced at Theo; his friend looked decidedly unnerved. Draco's hand grasped his wand within his pocket and he nodded almost imperceptibly.

"We have a young, freshly transitioned vampire here," Theo explained stiffly, and Sanguini turned an amused gaze in Theo's direction.

"How wonderful," Sanguini said, his brows lifting with excitement. "But of course…" his gaze swept between them melodramatically. "I cannot help from the corridor."

"Yes," Theo said between gritted teeth, "come in, then."

Draco fought the urge to shudder as Sanguini drifted into the flat, making a mental note to adjust the wards so Sanguini couldn't simply come back one day. He stepped protectively to Granger's side, ignoring her pointed stare.

He wasn't going to let that creepy vampire anywhere near his mate, and didn't care if she was angry with him over it.

Sanguini pressed his fingers together as he stared around the sitting room, looking delighted.

"She's in this room here," Theo grumbled, gesturing to his room. "We were hoping you could tell us what to do. She won't respond to anything."

"Of course not," Sanguini purred. "You must give her blood."

"I have," Theo said, and Draco could see the tension in his friend's shoulders. "It hasn't helped."

"It may take a week," Sanguini said, clicking his tongue as he inspected the kettle in their kitchen. "I will take her to my colony."

"Your colony," Theo said, a furrow to his brow. Draco quickly glanced at Theo. "Where is that? Transylvania or something?"

"No," Sanguini said, his accent slipping a bit as he waved a hand, "it's in Wales."

Draco fought the urge to snicker, even as he could see the inner turmoil in Theo's face. While his friend didn't know what to do with the girl, and didn't want the responsibility of looking after her, Draco could see Theo wasn't comfortable with sending her away either.

As if sensing the hesitation, Sanguini grinned and said, "then I will return her to you."

"Fine," Theo said, suspiciously. "But if she hasn't come back in a week..."

Draco exchanged a sidelong glance with Granger. The corners of her lips twitched in amusement. Perhaps Theo had grown more attached to the girl than he was letting on.

Draco sobered. Or maybe he secretly hoped for someone else who shared in his curse.

"I'm going to explain the situation to her," Theo said, glaring at Sanguini as if daring him to say anything.

Sanguini merely smiled and clasped his hands across his front.

While Theo released the wards on his door and slipped into his room, Draco glanced at Granger, who was smiling blandly. An awkward silence fell over the room as Sanguini continued to drift about the kitchen.

"May I have this?" he asked, brandishing the kettle.

"No," Draco said, making a face. "That's ours."

"Of course," Sanguini said, his Eastern European accent thick again, setting the kettle back down.

After what felt like ages, Theo led Sally-Anne from his room, her hands magically bound, while Theo kept a firm grasp of her arm. The girl was sucking on a bag of blood, her wild eyes darting rapidly around the room.

She froze when she saw Draco standing with Granger, gaping as she lowered the bag of blood.

"Hermione!" she exclaimed, "what are you doing here?"

Her eyes were bloodshot and Granger chewed on her lip beside him. "I live here, Sally-Anne," Granger finally answered. "With Nott and Malfoy."

"Are _you_ a vampire too?" Sally-Anne asked, her eyes wide. "Can you believe this, Hermione? A vampire! My life is ruined!"

Theo grimaced as he led Sally-Anne to Sanguini.

"No, only Nott is a vampire," Granger explained shortly.

"And now he's shipping me off to some colony," Sally-Anne said, giving Theo a rather hard elbow to the ribs. Theo, to his credit, looked apologetic.

"It's only for a week, and then you'll be free to do whatever you like," Theo muttered.

"Aren't you supposed to look after me or something?" Sally-Anne asked, turning baleful eyes on Theo, who pursed his lips. "As my creator or –"

"I've tried, haven't I?" Theo hissed. Sally-Anne glared at him and drank from her bag of blood again. Draco shifted uneasily when her eyes flashed to Granger's throat.

Sally-Anne huffed, defeated. "Fine then. Send me off, so you don't have to deal with me anymore." Her red eyes flashed.

"You will make many friends at my colony," Sanguini interrupted, with that amused look. "And if you want to leave, you may do so. But many choose to stay."

"You said a week," Theo ground through his teeth.

"Well _obviously_ , you don't want me here," Sally-Anne said, rolling her eyes as she awkwardly reached out her bound hands for another bag of blood. "So why do you care if it's a week or not?"

Theo grit his teeth but didn't answer. He merely handed her a fresh bag and she tore into it with her teeth clumsily, slopping some on the floor. Draco cringed and watched as Nott's gaze shifted to the blood. Draco wondered whether he had been keeping himself sufficiently fed.

"Time to go," Sanguini chimed, clapping his hands together. Delicately, he took hold of Sally-Anne's arm and Theo released her.

"Good luck, Sally-Anne," Granger said, her brow furrowed with sadness or worry. She glanced at Sanguini, who was busy inspecting the furniture before whispering, "It won't be that bad. Malfoy can make you a tonic to be out in the sun."

"Fine," Sally-Anne snapped, her eyes flashing red again. "It was nice to see you again, Hermione. I just wish it were under different circumstances, and that I didn't want to rip your throat out."

Granger blinked, and absently took a step back towards Draco. Instantly he felt his hands warming up.

"It was nice to see you as well, Sally-Anne," Granger said politely, even as Draco saw her claws make an appearance. "Maybe once you've become accustomed to the cravings, we can catch up."

Sally-Anne offered Granger a smile, though moments later her lip curled back, exposing her fangs. Draco quickly pulled Granger closer to him, while Theo grabbed hold of Sally-Anne again.

Sanguini merely smiled, as if the whole situation were mildly amusing.

"We must go now," he said, flashing his teeth. "And we will become good friends."

Sally-Anne snarled, and Theo stepped back, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

"Bye, then," he murmured. "Good luck."

Frowning, Sally-Anne said, "Goodbye, Theo."

Theo stepped alongside Draco as Sanguini led Sally-Anne from the flat, frowning. Draco clapped his oldest friend on the back. Theo's brow furrowed and he stared at the door long after it had closed.

"Maybe you'll see her again," Granger supplied.

Theo simply pressed his lips together and nodded absently. Then with a heavy sigh, he silently retreated to his room.

Draco adjusted the wards on the flat to keep Sanguini from letting himself in again, then met Granger's wide eyes with his own. His veela hormones were still racing, rampant through his body, ready to protect his mate from the threat of two unknown vampires.

Exhausted, he collapsed into the couch, and tugged Granger closer when she sat alongside him.

"Thanks for helping Theo today," he murmured, staring blankly at the coffee table. "I know he will have appreciated your support."

"Of course," Granger replied, her voice small. "He's your best friend." She shook her head, lost in a memory. "He was so panicked. I've never seen that side of him."

"Not many have," Draco nodded, turning to bury his face in Granger's hair. He took a long breath, letting her scent soothe his ragged nerves. She burrowed deeper into his side, as if feeling the same way. "Theo is more emotional than he typically lets on."

"Do you think he wanted Sally-Anne to stay?" Granger asked quietly.

"Absolutely, I think he did," Draco replied. "But he didn't know what to do about her, and he didn't want her to attack one of us. He's always been strict with himself about not turning anyone. But maybe the thought of having someone else around who understands him was appealing. As much as you and I have our own afflictions, I reckon it isn't the same as another vampire."

"You think he did it on purpose?" Granger asked, turning to face him.

"No," Draco said, shaking his head, "not intentionally. But it was hard for him to see her go, all the same."

"Maybe she'll come back one day," Granger whispered, her eyes fluttering shut.

"Maybe," Draco agreed. He fell silent for a long moment, and when he opened his mouth to speak again, he realized Granger had fallen asleep.

Draco gazed at his mate, taking comfort in her soft, quiet presence for a long while, before carrying her into her room, and fighting the urge to join her, tucked her into her bed and went to sleep in his own.

* * *

 **A/N:** Stay tuned for a brand new Dramione in the next couple days! Drop a follow if you're interested!


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note _:_** Thanks as always for the lovely support on this fic, and for all your kind comments. It means SO MUCH.

Self-plug: I've posted a new WIP this week! It's called Dust, and it's a Dramione Wild West Outlaws AU. Give it a read if you're into that sort of thing :)

Thanks as always to Kyonomiko for all of her support.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 _ **October 5, 2002**_

Hermione stretched her neck, one way and then the other, as she took a short break from the manuscript over which she had been poring for hours.

Cross-legged on the floor of the sitting room, surrounded with journals and accounts, she and Malfoy had spent nearly every waking moment trying to find something that might give them an edge over the Witch Doctor.

It had surpassed three months since Malfoy had discovered she was his mate, and the tension between them and in the situation felt so much higher.

In many ways, this felt like a last ditch effort to make things work without suffering the consequences, on one side or the other.

"Call me insensitive," Nott said, from his position sprawled across the armchair, his head hanging over the armrest as he nursed a bag of blood, "but why can't Draco just storm in there and threaten to burn this so-called Witch Doctor's hut down if he doesn't undo the curse?"

"It isn't that simple," Hermione said, taking a sip from her long-cold cup of Earl Grey. "Something tells me the Witch Doctor isn't the type to bow to common threats."

Nott shrugged, righting himself as he glanced at Malfoy, whose brow was furrowed as he read through an old account of strange magic and their users.

"How is it that there are virtually _no_ encounters with this man?" he grumbled finally, shaking his head. "You'd think someone would know something. A weakness, even?"

"When I was first looking for him," Hermione explained, chewing her lip, "everyone warned me against it. Even the lead healer working with my parents said most people who sought him out never returned, and if they did, they were never the same."

"Ah," Nott said sagely, "so that was your cue to run off and seek him out then. I understand now."

Hermione threw a book at him.

"I never said it was the wisest decision I've ever made," she admitted, feeling a flush creep to her cheeks.

"There's some of that humility we need you to learn," Malfoy said with a soft smirk.

Her stomach flopped at the sight of it. Living in the same flat as him had only exacerbated whatever was between them, and Hermione could hardly look at him without wanting to jump his bones. And she wasn't entirely certain how much it had to do with the low-dosage pheromones that he naturally emitted, or whether it was his veela's way to encourage the bond by subtly increasing their intensity.

Or how much of it was merely borne from her own growing interest in him.

"I wish the curse were less ambiguous," she said quietly, chewing on the end of a sugar quill that Malfoy had brought home for her, after she had once mentioned enjoying them in school.

The riddles had been coming as per usual, and though she was remaining in her human form far more often, she tested her lion every morning and night to be sure the transition wasn't stuck either. The curse had been eerily accepting of her new living arrangements, despite the fact that she was less alone than she had ever been since being cursed.

But still, something churned uncomfortably within her at the reference to the humility clause. She found herself wondering more and more how that factored in, especially as she spent less time alone. And how she might be able to figure that out. It was something she vowed to ask the Witch Doctor about when they found him.

"It seems to me," Nott said, almost apologetically, "these answers are not ones you'll find in a book. I know, Granger, shocking to me too!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Nott had been relentless as always with the teasing and the sarcastic remarks, but there was something softer in his words, ever since she had helped him out of the bind with Sally-Anne.

And while he had moped about the flat for a couple days after his new charge had gone to Sanguini's colony, not even leaving at night as usual, Nott had very evidently _not_ wanted to talk about it, so Hermione had refrained from asking.

"You may be right," she said, releasing a sigh.

"I mean, you know how to find him, right?" Nott asked, carefully folding his empty bag. "And from there you'll have to try and, I don't know, negotiate or something?"

"Or something," Malfoy chimed in with a grimace as he ran his fingers through his already disheveled hair.

"Last time I had to hire a guide who knew how to find his hut," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Presumably we'll be able to do the same this time. The wards make it impossible to find otherwise."

"When are you leaving, anyway?" Nott asked, flipping casually through one of the journals. "You know, so I can arrange a gathering of my coven when I've got the flat to myself."

"You don't have a coven," Malfoy deadpanned, even as his lips twitched.

"Rub it in, then," Nott said, clicking his tongue.

"We've been meaning to leave when we have a plan of action," Malfoy continued, ignoring his oldest friend, "but we aren't having much luck. I just don't care for the idea of _winging it_."

"Neither do I," Hermione said, "but we aren't finding anything. Maybe there will be resources _in_ Australia that might help. We just might have to accept that our trip will be longer than originally planned."

"Okay," Malfoy agreed, running a hand down his face. She could practically feel the stress radiating from him.

He had been working so hard trying to help her find a way out of this curse, despite that all she wanted was for the bond to be completed, and for him to escape the constant pain she knew he was in. Her brow furrowed as she stared at him.

"Let's go tomorrow, then," she said softly. " _And_ we're taking a break."

"What's a break?" Malfoy said with a snicker.

"I like a break," Nott said, straightening in his seat. "Cards?"

"Sure," Hermione said with a shrug. "Although I was thinking of something different."

Abruptly standing, and massaging her overwrought brain, Hermione rummaged in the kitchen cabinets, returning with a partial bottle of Firewhisky and three tumblers.

"Seriously, Granger?" Nott said, gaping.

"What?" she asked, blinking at him. "We've been researching for days on end." She hesitated, chewing her lip. "Can you not drink firewhisky anymore?"

"Of course I can," Nott scoffed, reaching for a tumbler, "I just didn't think you had it in you."

Malfoy merely gave her a slow smile, his grey eyes lit up in a way she hadn't seen in days.

"That isn't going to be nearly enough if we're doing this," he murmured quietly. His gaze flickered to Nott, who grinned. "We need to infiltrate the Malfoy Manor liquor cellars."

Nott was instantly on his feet. "Let's go."

Malfoy stood as well, straightening his shirt and rolling up his sleeves. He offered a hand to Hermione and helped her to her feet, that soft smile lingering in the curve of his lips.

Hermione felt a breath catch in her throat as she stared at him, transfixed by the light within his grey eyes.

"The whisky in the cellars will make that bottle of Ogden's taste like dragon piss," he murmured with a beguiling smile, holding her gaze.

"Okay," Hermione said, swallowing. He still held her by the hand, and she interlocked their fingers.

His tongue flicked out to moisten his lips, and as he opened his mouth to say something else, Nott sighed exaggeratedly.

"Let's go," he repeated, shifting his weight, with what Hermione could only presume was the anticipation of good whisky.

"Right," Malfoy said, even as he continued staring at Hermione. She felt herself grow flushed from the heat in his gaze. He bit down on his lower lip around a smile. "Meet you there, Theo."

And her hand still held in his, he Apparated Hermione to Malfoy Manor.

* * *

Some time later, Hermione found herself giggling inordinately as Nott regaled them with some of his nighttime adventures. She threw her head back in laughter at the thought of a trio of common thieves who had tried to mug the vampire, and had run away screaming at the sight of his fangs.

"You should have gone along with it and followed them home," she snorted, slurring her words slightly.

"Dark, Granger," Malfoy snickered as he finished his glass of whisky and poured another.

"Well then they should know better," she said, indignant.

"They do now," Nott said, grinning widely, his razor-sharp teeth glinting.

Hermione cackled, turning to Malfoy who sat beside her on the couch, one arm resting on the cushion behind her shoulders.

"And if you were there, too," she giggled, poking him in the ribcage. "And you threw fire at them."

"Draco just has to sprout wings and everyone would run away," Nott said, snickering.

"Can I see them?" Hermione asked, swivelling her head towards him with what she hoped was a convincing smile. "I've never seen your wings."

"I don't like them," Malfoy said shortly, frowning. "I try to keep them away as best I can."

"But what if you need to fly away from danger?" she asked, blinking at him. "What then?"

"I suppose I'll decide if I'm ever in a situation where I need to fly away from danger," Malfoy responded with a half grin, his eyes heavily lidded. "Until that day, no."

"Fine," Hermione said, with mocking disapproval which was negated as she giggled again.

"And what about you?" Malfoy asked, turning to face her, wiggling his brows. "You could protect _me_."

"Absolutely!" Hermione exclaimed with a grin, the whisky in her cup sloshing. "I would protect both of you."

"How sweet, Granger," Nott said with a grin. "You know, considering how fucked up the three of us are, we aren't _not_ formidable."

"Double negatives, Nott," Malfoy said, rubbing his temple.

"Like, you know?" Nott carried on, nodding. "I would bet on us in a fight."

"So would I," Hermione said, clicking her tongue. "Okay, but who would win between a vampire and a veela?"

"A vampire, obviously," Nott said. "I'm immortal."

"You can still burn to a crisp, no?" Malfoy muttered under his breath, looking at Nott over the top of his glass. "Just saying. There must be ways to defeat you."

"I think I would lose," Hermione said, tilting her head thoughtfully. "To both of you."

"You would beat me, because I physically can't hurt you," Malfoy pointed out, his brow furrowed. Hermione raised her brows, staring at him.

"Okay, but if that wasn't the case," she slurred, pointing at his chest.

"You could _easily_ gut me," Malfoy admonished. "And I wouldn't see you coming. Your senses are stronger than mine."

"You would melt me to a pile of ash," Hermione said, snorting, "and then fly away from the danger."

Nott threw his head back with laughter. Malfoy frowned, looking put out.

"Okay, but what colour are they?" Hermione asked, poking at his shoulder blade. "And are they like a bird's wings, or a bat's?"

Malfoy stared at her for a long moment, chewing on his tongue. "I'll tell you what. If we find answers in Australia and make it through this disaster, I'll show you."

"Fine," Hermione said, smiling. "And take me for a ride."

"I'll take you for a ride," Malfoy said with a lascivious grin. Hermione flushed, jabbing him with an elbow. He snorted. "If you want to go for a ride, I'll take you on my broom."

"Weren't you always afraid of flying, Granger?" Nott broke in. "I thought you were, or was that someone else?"

"It was me," she said flippantly, tilting her head. "Although I suppose, after flying on hippogriffs and thestrals and dragons… what's flying with a veela who I know won't hurt me?"

Nott and Malfoy gaped at her as Hermione shrugged and took a sip of her whisky.

"What the fuck," Nott muttered under his breath.

"Whatever," Malfoy said, throwing his hands in the air. "I'll take you flying, then. _If_ this pans out, and if I can figure out how to bloody fly, let alone with someone else."

"I have faith," Hermione said, leaning back into him. His arm dropped down the cushion and wrapped around her shoulders. He met her gaze, his brow furrowed, his grey eyes honest.

"I'm trying to have faith as well," he murmured softly. "That we can figure this out."

"Okay," Hermione said, chewing her lip as she gazed at him. "And we will, right?"

She leaned deeper into him, absently tracing patterns on his abdomen through his shirt. His throat bobbed.

"I'm leaving!" Nott announced, finishing his drink. He stood and gave the two of them a pointed look, then his face softened. "If I don't see you before you leave, don't either of you _dare_ come back without good news."

"Thanks Nott," Hermione said, oddly touched.

Malfoy offered his friend a smile.

"You look after him," Nott said, pointing at Hermione. "And you know, gut that crazy sorcerer if you need to."

Malfoy made a face and glanced at Hermione.

"Have fun tonight," Hermione said softly, snickering.

With an awkward sort of wave, Nott left the flat.

Hermione turned to Malfoy, her vision swimming a little as she stared at him. "We're going to figure this out because we're going to be together, and we're smart."

Malfoy chuckled, tugging her closer. "Right, Granger. Because we're going to be together."

She blinked, tracing his cheekbone with her fingertips. "I want to kiss you, you know," she announced.

"Don't say that," he breathed, swallowing heavily, "because I've had enough whisky I might not have the willpower not to."

"So do it," she challenged, her eyelids heavy as she stared at his mouth.

"I can't, Granger," he murmured, even as he fidgeted with a loose curl. His grey eyes were glazed. "You need to break your curse."

"We're going to," she whispered, cuddling into his side, allowing the pheromones between them to roll over her. "Tomorrow."

"So wait until tomorrow," he breathed, exhaling heavily. His hand held her jaw assertively. "You have _no idea_ , Granger, how badly –"

"Aren't you tired of waiting," she whispered, digging a hand into his soft blond hair. His eyes fluttered shut and his head pitched forward. She leaned in, so close she could taste the whisky on his breath. "We're going to break the curse… we will be together. And… all of this is just going to be a story we tell our kids someday."

"Our kids." He choked on a breath, as if her words were physically painful. His eyes were shining as they blinked open, and Hermione could see the leagues of self-imposed torment within their depths.

"I can't do this to you, Granger," he whispered, and Hermione could almost feel the movement of his lips.

"You can," she breathed in return.

"No," he said, shaking his head slowly. There was moisture at the corners of his eyes. "Not until we break your curse… not like this, drunken and desperate."

He drew away with a ragged breath, as if he couldn't stand it.

"You," he breathed, his voice shaky, "are everything to me. I will die for you, and I will give you up, if that's what it takes."

He held up a hand, as she opened her mouth to speak.

"I fucking love you, Granger, more than I can fucking comprehend, more than I knew I had the capacity to feel, and it _terrifies_ me," he murmured into her neck, his hands clutching her like a lifeline. His voice dropped to a breath. "And I refuse to do anything that might harm you. So as much as it _hurts_ , as badly as I want you, as I fucking _need_ you like I need oxygen…"

Hermione gasped a breath as she felt his tears on her neck, dropping her face into his hair.

He swallowed. "I would gladly die before I put you at risk, my Granger."

"Okay," Hermione choked, digging her hands into his hair, lost for words. _Never_ had she seen him like this. He was typically so strong, so aloof even, and to see him so devastated, so hopeless, broke something deep within her. She breathed into his ear, "I promise you, Draco, we are going to figure this out. One way or another, this is _going_ to work out, and your pain is going to end."

He pulled away, nodding, though his expression was blank, his eyes dull and empty. "Of course we are, Granger." His grey eyes flickered to hers and then away as he muttered, "Sorry."

Hermione simply shook her head and wrapped her arms tightly around him, feeling her own tears spring to the corners of her eyes.

She could never deserve the level of devotion he was offering.

And she was going to do whatever she had to do, in order to make sure he found his own happiness, in the end.

 _ **October 6, 2002**_

Draco awoke, a cold churning in his gut.

His head was pounding and there was a terrible crick in his neck. His throat felt raw.

His senses flared to life, and as he blinked into consciousness, he realized Granger was asleep, half sprawled across his chest.

His heart constricted for a brief moment while he took in his surroundings. They had evidently fallen asleep on the couch, fully clothed, and having made a significant dent in the supply of whisky they had taken from Malfoy Manor the night before.

It had been quite some time since Draco had imbibed so heavily, and he could feel the impact in every muscle of his body.

"Granger," he murmured, nudging her. "Wake up."

With a groan, she stirred, rubbing at her eyes.

She stared at him, her lips slightly parted, then averted her gaze, flushing pink.

Draco wasn't entirely certain of everything that had happened the night before, but the unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach suggested he had humiliated himself.

"Good morning," she said, her voice high-pitched. She pressed her eyes shut. "Please tell me you've got a hangover draught handy."

"Merlin, I hope so," Draco muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Granger shifted off his chest as Draco made to stand, tripping clumsily over his own feet as he collected two vials from the potions cupboard, breathing a sigh of relief.

He unstoppered one and tossed the other to Granger, who blinked in surprise at the fact that she managed to catch it.

"So," Granger said softly, as the potion started to take effect. "Last night was interesting."

"Right," Draco said, chewing his tongue. "Sorry."

"For what?" she breathed, her gaze flickering to his.

"I can't remember," Draco admitted, feeling sheepish, "though I feel like there's something."

"Are you apologizing for saying you love me?" she asked, and though her face was red and her words soft, there was something quietly teasing in the sentiment.

Draco's heart plummeted into the bowels of his stomach.

"Yes?" he murmured, biting his tongue to refrain from asking the question he desperately wanted to ask. He realized too late he was tapping his empty vial into the arm of the couch, nervously.

"That's nothing to be sorry for," she said, almost apologetically, and Draco could read the answer to his unspoken question. "If anything, I should –"

Draco held up a hand, feeling rather as if he might still toss the contents of his stomach, despite the hangover draught working to soothe his body.

"No," he murmured. He forced a smirk to his face. "It isn't as if it's a surprise to anyone, I'm sure. Though it certainly wasn't the way I meant to tell you."

Granger's brow furrowed as she worried her lower lip. "I suppose I've been trying so hard to keep myself closed off –"

"Please don't, Granger, you don't owe me anything," Draco clipped. Suddenly he remembered something else. "Australia. Today, right?"

"Right," Granger said, pressing her lips together. "If you're still interested in going. I suppose when I think about it, we might find more information about the Witch Doctor closer to the source."

"Yes," Draco agreed, nodding voraciously, as he tried to swallow the panic in his chest as more of his words and actions of the night prior came flooding back. The last thing he needed was to push her away. "Brisbane, right?"

Granger nodded absently. "That's where my parents are. Or were, over a year ago when I returned to England."

"Then that's where we'll start," Draco said, nodding. "Pack a bag, and we'll activate the Portkey. We're going to find these answers, Granger."

She nodded, smiling, as if she believed him.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note _:_** I'm so thrilled you're all sticking with this fic. Every one of your comments means so much to me. I hope you enjoy where the next few chapters take us and as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts xoxo

Much love to Kyonomiko for slogging through this fic with me.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 _ **October 6, 2002**_

Draco gazed through the window of the hotel room they had checked into in Brisbane, his mind a tumultuous flood of thoughts and emotions.

They had arrived in Brisbane in the early evening, having left London mid-morning.

Granger had insisted on being sure her parents were alright, and so the first stop had been to find their house in a rather affluent neighbourhood.

Though Draco had been concerned her parents might have moved and they would have trouble locating them, that hadn't been the issue at all.

Granger's quiet gasp beside him had alerted Draco to the presence of her parents, laughing and talking as they walked around the corner towards their house. At her soft smile and watery eyes, Draco had wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her nearer.

They had watched from a safe distance as the pair made their way up the drive, dawdling. Mrs Granger had a delightful laugh that carried on the evening air. They were younger than Draco might have imagined, perhaps even younger than his own parents.

But it was when Mr Granger held the door for his wife, and Mrs Granger turned to enter, that her rounded stomach came into view, and Granger's breathing hitched beside him.

She started, as if to move forward, her lips parted and brow furrowed.

"Pregnant," she finally breathed, and when Draco chanced a nervous look in her direction, he could see the light of the streetlamp reflecting the tear tracks on her cheeks.

Draco shifted uncomfortably, even as he fought the urge to pull her further into his arms.

"Are you alright?" he whispered, meeting her gaze. "Do you want to go?"

"No," she whispered, wrapping her arms across her front, chewing her lip. "I just want to watch them."

But they shortly thereafter vanished into the house, and lights came on from within.

Granger continued to stare at the house, as if she could see through the walls. Finally she sunk into him, as if the strength had been drained from her legs.

"They're having a baby," she said, more so to herself than to Draco. "I'm going to have a sibling."

"Yes," Draco said, nodding, his throat dry. "That'll be nice."

His mind raced frantically, wondering what he could possibly say to reassure her.

Somehow, in all this mess, it had become a bit of an abstract idea that she still hadn't been able to help her parents – that she had become _cursed_ through trying to save them, and yet, hadn't accomplished her goal.

That for so long, she had been struggling with not just her own curse, but wracked with guilt over the spell she had placed on her parents.

And now this. They were still young enough, Draco supposed, to have a child. Although, of course, they didn't realize they already had a daughter who was standing outside the house.

Granger finally released a long sigh and pulled away.

"There is a small magical community in Brisbane; the hospital here serves most of wizarding Australia," she chewed her lip thoughtfully. "I'll owl Healer Carlson to arrange a consultation. Maybe they've learned something about my parents, but he may also have more information on the Witch Doctor."

"That's a good plan," Draco said quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Is there an owl post office?"

"Yes," she murmured idly. "I've used it before."

"Then let's go," Draco said, offering his hand.

So it was that Draco found himself, sometime later, waiting patiently in their shared hotel room – Draco had been sure to request two separate beds.

Granger had excused herself to the loo shortly after they'd arrived, and minutes later he had heard the shower running.

But the water had been off for quite a while, and Draco could feel her emotional distress coming through whichever of his veela characteristics picked up on that sort of thing.

He knew exactly why – she was likely blaming herself for the fact that she hadn't yet been able to restore her parents' memories, or that she hadn't stayed in Australia to keep trying. Or, she was mourning the fact that she may never come to know her baby sibling.

Draco had grit his teeth and paced the room, understanding her need for solitary time. He had unpacked each of their trunks, levitating the clothing and personal effects into their respective holds.

When he reached the shrunken collection of books Granger had brought along, Draco had smiled fondly and expanded them, stowing each carefully onto a small shelf in the room.

Draco's heart clenched as he reached a book entitled _Knowing Your Veela Mate_ , and his breathing hitched.

He ran his fingers along the spine, aching in her all-encompassing pain he could still feel.

He noticed a bookmark was tucked carefully into the book, and despite himself, a smile drifted across his lips.

For as much as they had been through, and for all that she owed him less than nothing, she had somehow decided him worthy of her effort and her consideration.

He would spend his entire life trying to make the past up to her, if he could, and he would still never deserve her.

His beautiful, brilliant, incredible mate.

Curiosity won out, and Draco slid a finger into the book where she had marked it, intending to peek at the chapter in which she had left off, when there was a soft tapping on the window.

Draco closed the book and settled it onto the shelf with the rest.

He opened the window and accepted a small scroll from the owl that had carried Granger's request to the hospital. Instantly the owl took off, not interested in waiting for a response.

Draco hesitated, not wanting for bother Granger unless it was urgent. He sat on his bed, deciding to read a book while he waited for her.

But just then she emerged, her hair damp and eyes red. She gave him a smile but Draco could tell her heart wasn't in it. She settled down on his bed beside him, folding her legs.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked, marking his page and setting the book down. "You seemed distraught."

Half expecting a flippant dismissal and a forced, cheerful response, Draco was surprised when Granger let out a long sigh, her posture visibly deflated.

"I guess it's just one more thing to worry over," she admitted, chewing her lip as she looked at him. "It was one thing to know I've been trying in vain to restore their memories… but now to know, that if I never manage it, I'll never meet my new sibling."

Draco's brow furrowed and he dropped a hand in support onto hers, pressing his lips together. He wasn't entirely accustomed to Granger opening up to him, and he wasn't exactly good at this sort of thing.

"And I suppose if I'm being _really_ honest," she carried on softly, "there's a small part of me that can't help but feel as if I've been replaced. Which I know must sound dreadfully selfish, especially since this is all my own doing."

"It isn't selfish," Draco replied, meeting her gaze. "Whether or not they realize it, they've been your parents all these years." He hesitated, chewing his tongue. "I would feel the same way."

"Really?" she asked, her expression simultaneously pained and hopeful.

"Absolutely," Draco nodded. He glanced at her, handing her the scroll. "Your owl just returned."

She took the note with apprehension, her eyes scanning the missive quickly. "Healer Carlson will meet with us tomorrow afternoon."

"That's good," Draco said, moving his book to the end table as she shifted to lean against the headboard beside him. "Though it's strange to think it's nighttime, when we only woke up a handful of hours ago."

"It is," Granger agreed with a sort of giggle. "I'm not at all tired."

"Neither," Draco said, smirking. He huffed a breath through his nose, looking at her again. "Your parents must have been young when they had you, no?"

"Very young," she said, nodding. "My mum was only eighteen when she became pregnant with me."

Draco let out a long breath. "My parents were around our age."

He looked down as Granger burrowed into his side, making herself comfortable. He instantly tamped down on the pheromones that fought to reach the surface whenever she was near. They seemed to be getting worse, the longer they delayed the bond.

"Tell me about them," he breathed, slipping an arm behind her back.

"About my parents?" she asked, eyes wide. "What do you want to know?"

Draco shrugged, smiling. "Whatever you want to tell me."

"They're both dentists," she said, thoughtfully. "Muggle doctors who fix teeth, that is." A soft smile graced her face. "Mum and I were always very close; she always liked to talk about hair and boys and books and philosophy… anything, really, she was incredibly talkative and charismatic. She was the only one who could get my hair under control, even though I get my curls from dad."

Granger chuckled, caught in a memory. "Dad was always trying to teach me something. The rules of rugby, or how to fix the engine in the Volvo, or which birds could be found where in the forests. He loves the historical programs on the telly, archaeological digs and that."

"Fascinating," Draco murmured, smiling. "They sound great. Though of course, they must be to have raised someone like you."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Draco Malfoy," she teased, grinning.

"Nowhere?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nowhere," she repeated in a whisper, emphasizing each syllable. Then for good measure, she elbowed him in the ribs.

"Hey!" Draco exclaimed, grabbing her and tossing her onto the comforter.

She shoved him away, cackling as she moved out of range. When Draco moved closer, grinning, Granger gave him an innocent smile and held up one hand, complete with viciously sharp and lethal claws that could slice him open with one swipe.

"You wouldn't," he said, leaning over her. His tongue flicked out to moisten his lips subconsciously. Her proximity was intoxicating.

Granger held his gaze and ran the side of one long claw down his arm, not quite deep enough to draw blood.

"You're right," she breathed, then flushed pink. "Not intentionally, anyway – I'm tall when I'm young and short when I'm old."

Draco blinked, caught off guard, his mind hazy with her closeness. He stared at her for a long moment, his mind racing. Then it hit him. "A candle."

"You're going to miss answering my riddles, aren't you?" Granger asked, a sly grin on her face as she stared at him.

"Believe it or not, I won't," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "And you'll miss asking them, I suppose. Making me think too hard, with the threat of being gutted by your claws if I'm wrong."

"Good thing you haven't been wrong," Granger breathed. Then she sobered. "I think I am going to miss my lion, though. It's so… free."

"I'll have to make it up to you," Draco whispered, smirking.

"By taking me flying, right?" she asked, smiling prettily, a flush to her face.

"You fucking wish," Draco said, rolling onto his back beside her.

"Can you say no to your mate?" Granger asked, pretending to pout.

"I certainly can," Draco retorted, pointing a finger at her. "Especially if it puts my mate in danger. And besides, we aren't bonded."

"If all goes well," Granger said softly, trailing off. Draco swallowed heavily at the thought. "Then we will be very soon." She chewed her lip, her gaze drifting. "What is the bonding like?"

"Straight-forward, so far as I can tell," Draco murmured. "There's the marking… and the consummation." His pheromones were racing at the thought. Merlin, if this actually happened, the consummation would be an exercise in self-restraint with her. Draco didn't even know if he would have any control over the matter.

"Right," Granger said, her voice breathy. "That's all I could find on the subject. How exactly does the marking work?"

"I get to bite you," Draco murmured, biting his lower lip in demonstration. Feeling bold, he ran his fingertips across the sensitive skin at the juncture of her neck and collarbone. "Right here."

He ducked in, dragging his human teeth along the soft flesh that he so longed to bite into. A shiver crept down Granger's spine and it echoed down Draco's own.

Throwing aside caution, his tongue flicked out to taste her skin, and in the moment of contact, his brain exploded. Her skin surely tasted like ambrosia. He dragged his tongue along the column of her throat, his mind spinning and hazy with the feel of her.

His veela basked in the release of pheromones, pushing him, tempting him – Draco pressed his lips to the soft flesh of her neck, his eyes nearly rolling back in his skull at the feel of it as he buried his hands in her curls, shifting so he was above her.

Granger let out a whimper as Draco sucked the skin of her neck between his lips, the human side of his mind all but obliterated with her body, willing and pliant within his grasp.

His teeth grazed her throat again, his canines elongating into fangs, poised to mark his mate.

"Malfoy," she gasped, arching into him, and Draco's eyes fluttered open to meet hers, cloudy and heavily-lidded.

In the long moments it took to reorient himself, Draco simply gazed at her, his lips parted, his throat dry. He caught the thread of his freely flowing pheromones and wrangled them in.

"Granger," he finally breathed, his chest heaving at her closeness, her body soft and lithe against his. He blinked several times as he regained control of his senses, the fangs retreating. He pressed his lips together and released a long exhale. "We're getting this _fucking_ curse lifted."

"Yes please," Granger whispered.

"And then," Draco murmured, allowing himself a quick nip to her earlobe, "you're all mine."

* * *

Hermione forced her hands to stay still by her sides as she walked into Healer Carlson's office, Malfoy close behind her. She tried to ignore the helpless, desperate memories of the last time she had been in this hospital, when so many healers had told her nothing could be done for her parents.

"Miss Granger," Healer Carlson clipped, rising from his desk to shake her hand, a tight smile on his face. "And –"

"Draco Malfoy," the blond said smoothly, shaking Carlson's hand briefly before extracting his hand and slipping into the seat beside her as Carlson re-took his seat.

"What brings you back to Australia?" Healer Carlson asked pleasantly, looking between them.

"I was wondering whether there had been any changes in my parents' conditions?" Hermione asked, cursing herself for feeling hopeful. He probably hadn't even checked on her parents since she had left Australia.

Healer Carlson slipped on a pair of reading glasses and flipped through a file on his desk.

"No change, I'm afraid," he said bluntly. "We have had healers check in on them every so often, to determine whether their behaviour has changed at all. Aside from the obvious, being that your mother is with child, there has been nothing."

"Right," Hermione said, pressing her lips together as she nodded. Beside her, Malfoy sat stiffly upright, his expression neutral as he gazed, unblinkingly, at Carlson.

"I wish I had more to tell you," Carlson said, frowning. "Was that all?"

"No, actually, it wasn't," Hermione said with a sigh. She met Malfoy's grey eyes with some trepidation. "Do you remember, a little over two years ago, when I asked you about the Witch Doctor?"

"I do," Carlson said, his eye twitching. "And as I told you, two years ago, I do not advise seeking him out. I do not imagine he will be inclined to offer you any assistance in this matter."

"Right," Hermione said, waving a dismissive hand. "And what else do you know about him?"

"Very little," Healer Carlson said, his brow furrowing. "Just that he is a powerful sorcerer, who lives alone in the wilderness. He has been known to have a terrible temper and a wicked sense of humour."

Hermione's brows flickered. It sounded about right.

"And how do you know about his temper and sense of humour?" Malfoy broke in, leaning forward. "Have you met him yourself?"

"I have heard such things," Carlson said, sounding nervous. "Tales from people who have met him. People who have been _cursed_. Miss Granger, you must not seek him out."

" _I_ have been cursed, Healer Carlson," Hermione said evenly, holding the man's gaze. "And I need to know _everything_ you know."

"Cursed?" Carlson asked, his eyes widening. "In what way?"

"I sought out the Witch Doctor," she continued, "when last I was here. I have been cursed to transform into a lion and compulsively ask riddles."

"Riddles," Carlson said, deadpan. "Why riddles?" He hesitated, raising a brow. "Might I add, I did warn you."

"Yes, and I ignored the warnings, didn't I?" Hermione snapped, feeling her temper rise. Malfoy's hand found hers. "But now I find myself needing to break free of the curse in advance of the thousand day term the Witch Doctor set. And if I cannot, the curse will become permanent."

"You should probably be glad you've been given an escape date," Carlson said, unimpressed. "That is not often the case."

"Right," Hermione said, "were if not for the fact that Draco is a veela, and I am his mate, and he will die by the escape date if I am unable to accept the mating bond."

His expression remained passive, even as Malfoy's hand tightened around hers.

"A veela?" Carlson asked, his gaze swivelling rapidly to land on the blond. Hermione could see the academic curiosity in his gaze. "We do not see many veela in Australia. Full-blooded?"

"Hardly," Malfoy snorted. "A distant ancestor."

"Fascinating," Carlson murmured, thoroughly distracted. Hermione scowled at him. "Do you suppose I could ask you some questions?"

"Why don't you answer ours first and I'll consider it?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow, glancing furtively at Hermione.

Healer Carlson folded his hands in his lap, seemingly more amenable. "I wish I could help you, truly, I do. But I have never met the Witch Doctor myself, and after the stories I've heard, I don't intend to. Might I suggest returning to your original source? Perhaps you will have better luck there with whatever information it is you seek."

Hermione pressed her lips together. They had known this wouldn't be easy – they would simply have to continue on.

* * *

"It's decent advice, really," Draco said as they left Healer Carlson's office. "Where _did_ you first hear about the Witch Doctor?"

"I don't remember," Granger admitted, chewing her lip. "I had heard of him a few times before I ever really considered it as an option. Of course, now I wish I hadn't at all."

Draco frowned. "You can't remember anyone who told you about him? What about the guide?"

"No, wait," Granger murmured, her expression distant. "An employee of the hospital whispered it. That I should visit him… but when I went closer, he ran away. It was a member of the magical maintenance crew."

"Do you remember what he looked like?" Draco asked, chewing his tongue. "It's as good a place as any to look."

"I could probably recognize him if I saw him," Granger said thoughtfully. "Though I didn't see him up close. And what if he doesn't work here anymore?"

"We'll find him," Draco assured her. And if they didn't, he'd do whatever it took to get the information from Carlson, including answering the man's inane research questions on veelas.

After wandering the hospital for over an hour, doing their best to appear inconspicuous, Granger tensed beside him as a man in orange robes walked past.

"I think that's him," she hissed. She peered closer, following as the man turned a corner, nodding at Draco. She fell back alongside him. "Last time he refused to talk to me, and slammed a door in my face."

Draco raised an eyebrow, letting a smirk drift to his lips. "I'm not above threats. Are you?"

"Of course I'm above threats," Granger sighed, rolling her eyes.

Draco huffed. "Fine. A confundus charm?"

"Go on, then," Granger said after a moment, waving a hand.

Five minutes later, Draco had the man trapped in a supply cupboard, who was looking around in bafflement, his expression hazy.

"Who are you?" the man asked, running a hand down his face, his Australian accent thick.

"My name is Draco Malfoy," Draco said politely, then gestured to Granger. "This is my friend Hermione Granger. Two summers ago, you suggested she visit a man by the name of the Witch Doctor." He paused, watching as the man's eyes widened in terror. "Now tell me, why the bleeding _fuck_ would you have sent her to see such a person?"

"Shite," the man whispered, holding up his hands. "Mate, I can explain. It's this bloody curse, see?"

Draco froze, his mouth hanging open.

"You've been cursed too?" Granger asked, stepping forward, her eyes wide. "By the Witch Doctor? What has he done to you?"

"Right awful sense of humour he has," the man said darkly. Granger made a face of agreement. "A friend of mine had gone to see him, to ask for help, see. But he came back accursed, and when I tried to warn everyone about this Witch Doctor, he tracked me down and I ended up cursed too."

The man paced the supply closet. "I never meant to tell you to go see him," the man said, his expression apologetic. "My curse is that I am compelled to _tell_ people seeking answers, that they ought to visit him. I tried to stop myself, when I saw you, looking so desperate for answers. I was able to refrain from telling you anything more, but it's all just a game to him."

"That certainly sounds like something he would do," Granger said, frowning. "I don't blame you."

The man sagged with relief. "I'm right sorry you've been cursed too."

"You can make it up by telling us anything you can," Draco interjected, not wanting to let the man off the hook so easily when he could have information they needed. "He tracked you down? Do you mean he left his hut?"

"Nah," the man waved a hand. "He summoned me, more like."

Draco sighed, disheartened. "And do you know how to reach his hut? How he operates? How his magic works?"

"I know a bit," the man admitted. "We need to shut him down. I'll tell you everything I know."


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note _:_** Thank you for the lovely reception to the last chapter. You're all fantastic, and I'm so grateful you've chosen to come on this little journey with me. I hope you enjoy xoxo

Alpha love to the talented Kyonomiko.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 _ **October 9, 2002**_

"You're sure you know how to find the hut?" Hermione asked, brows knitted as she stared at their companion.

The magical maintenance worker, Lucas Anderson, had agreed to act as their guide, and lead them to the hut on his day off, after a few days spent in Brisbane preparing as well as they could.

"Yes," he said, nodding. "I've been trying to find a way to be rid of this curse for years. I've been out this way many times."

The Witch Doctor, Lucas had informed them, was descended from a long line of powerful seers. And blessed with powerful magic he had honed into a wicked craft over many years, he had become a formidable sorcerer.

"So how do we get him to release the curse?" Malfoy had asked, running a hand through his hair. "It sounds like we won't be able to defeat him, especially if he's such a powerful seer. He'll know we're coming."

"Your best bet is to appeal to his sense of natural justice," Lucas had explained. "If he's cursed Miss Granger because he doesn't believe she understands the balance of magic, that she doesn't know humility, you must show him you've learned."

"But won't he see that I just want the curse lifted?" Hermione had asked, chewing her lip.

"Maybe," Lucas said, shrugging. "You need to understand this is all guesswork. No one can predict the Witch Doctor; his will is as arbitrary as can be." Lucas hesitated, packing some dried food into his satchel. "But remember – you want to break the curse, yes. But not for your own personal, selfish reasons. You want to break if for _him_."

Lucas gestured to Malfoy, who was looking wholly skeptical.

"I don't like going in this blind," he murmured, and Hermione felt inclined to agree with him.

"It sounds like we're never going to have the upper hand," she said quietly. "Which we knew."

Malfoy frowned, but nodded his agreement. "I'm staying by your side, I don't care what happens."

Hermione didn't say anything, though privately she was glad for his protectiveness. The thought of seeing the Witch Doctor again, intentionally, had kept her up at night since they had arrived in Australia.

She wasn't prepared to let Malfoy know how close she had come to crawling in with him the night before, just to be nearer to his reassuring presence.

"All set?" Lucas asked, strapping his pack on. Hermione and Malfoy double-checked their bags and followed suit.

"Yes," she responded quietly, slipping her hand instinctively into Malfoy's. "Meet at the Apparition point beyond the outskirts?"

"Right," Lucas said, nodding. "See you in a mo'."

Hermione turned to Malfoy, frowning. "This is it."

"Don't say it like that," he murmured, his brow furrowed. "I'll be right there with you. We'll both be fine."

Hermione nodded slowly, chewing her tongue. Then she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. "Thank you for all your help," she breathed.

Surprised, Malfoy hesitated for a moment before returning the embrace. She could hear the smirk in his voice as he asked, "What else was I supposed to do, you silly witch?"

Hermione swatted him as she drew back. "Soon, Draco," she whispered, wishing she believed her own words as she said them, "we're going to be free of this."

"I can't wait," he whispered, pressing a kiss into her hair. "Let's go."

Hermione grabbed his arm and Apparated them both to the outskirts of Brisbane.

* * *

The trek felt as long as she remembered, though significantly less harrowing, with Malfoy so close to her side she was nearly claustrophobic. Even having Lucas along, who knew the way and was much friendlier than her last guide, was comforting.

They made good time, stopping only for brief rests and to eat some of the dried food from their packs.

Lucas admitted he wouldn't be joining them, but would wait at a safe distance. Hermione thought it was for the best – the last thing she needed was to unwittingly get him involved, when he'd already fought his own demons with the Witch Doctor for years.

She could practically taste the tension rolling off Malfoy as they grew closer and closer to the hut, and the sun had set fully by the time they arrived, despite having left Brisbane early in the day.

"Extensive wards, aren't they?" Malfoy murmured, clearly resenting the long trek they needed to make to access the hut.

"Very much," Lucas agreed, seeming as energized as he had been when they had set out. "We're very near, now."

"Good," Hermione breathed, swallowing a heavy lump that had formed in her throat. "The waiting is the worst part, right?" She turned to the two men, forcing a nervous grin.

"Right," Lucas agreed with a nod. Malfoy merely grasped her hand and entwined their fingers.

Hermione didn't need Lucas' murmured confirmation to know they had arrived. She could feel the heavy, dark density of the air as they neared the hut. The twisted, cruel magic that emanated from the Witch Doctor himself.

"Here is where I leave you," Lucas whispered, his smile faltering for the first time all day. "I wish you luck, Hermione and Draco."

"Thank you, Lucas," Hermione said, nodding. "Your help has been invaluable."

"Right," Malfoy murmured, shaking Lucas' hand firmly. He let out a long exhale, steeling himself. "If anything goes wrong, get yourself out of here."

With a somber nod and a wave, the man retreated into the outback.

Hermione grasped Malfoy's hand, trying to ease the trembling in her own. She was repulsed by the harsh spirit of the air, and wanted nothing more than to retreat and carry on the rest of her curse in her cave.

But one glance at her companion steeled her resolve.

And beyond that, since she had been thinking excessively about the curse, something had been picking at her, deep in the recesses of her mind – the idea that she hadn't really understood the base element of the curse at all.

Having heard it so quickly, and with the curse vague as it had been, she had focused on the part that require she remain alone, which was only exacerbated by the _need_ to do so, given her aggressive feline form.

But she wondered, more and more, how humility and wisdom played in.

They had begun spinning through her mind, as a chant; the more she tried to ignore it, the worse the feeling grew that she was missing something important.

She lifted a hand to knock, pressing her lips together in fear, but the door swung open before she could make contact.

She shared an apprehensive glance with Malfoy; huffing a sharp breath, she stepped across the threshold.

The Witch Doctor – the material of her nightmares – sat at the kitchen table, his hut looking exactly as she remembered it. A wicked smile curved his harsh features as he sipped a cup of tea.

"I wondered when you would return," he said by way of greeting, his voice bringing back echoes of consciousness that Hermione had spent two years trying to repress. "And Draco Malfoy – your veela – has come as well."

Hermione felt a twinge of protectiveness and nearly stepped in front of Malfoy – but his hand clenched hers so tightly she wouldn't have been able to move forward if she had tried. She suddenly felt awful for bringing him in to the scenario.

"Yes, hello," she tried, breathily. Diplomacy had to be her first option. "I see you already know Draco Malfoy."

"Yes," the Witch Doctor confirmed, his smile widening, baring several crooked teeth. "I know all about your mate."

Only the harsh set of his jaw suggested how tense Malfoy truly was.

"We come to seek clarification," Hermione stated, holding up one hand as if it might prevent any wicked magic from coming her way. As a peaceable gesture of sorts.

"Do have a seat," the Witch Doctor grinned. "Might I get you some tea?"

Remembering the otherworldly taste of the tea last time, Hermione smiled but politely shook her head. "No, thank you."

"Rude to reject an offering of tea," the Witch Doctor tutted. He rose and poured two glasses anyway.

Malfoy slipped into one of the open chairs at the table, tugging Hermione down next to him. She could see him hold the Witch Doctor's gaze as he took a sip of the tea; his expression betrayed no reaction.

"Wonderful," the Witch Doctor said, flashing his teeth again. "Now, Draco Malfoy, why don't you tell me about your understanding of Hermione Granger's delightful curse."

"Respectfully," Malfoy began, grinding his teeth, "I would not call it delightful."

"But so creative and unique, no?"

Hermione pressed her lips together. She had a bad feeling the Witch Doctor only intended to play with them; the feeling intensified when the Witch Doctor turned to her, that awful smile still playing across his face.

"Unfortunately, Granger's curse makes it so she is unable to accept our bond." Malfoy stared intently at the Witch Doctor, his brow heavily furrowed. "I do believe, sir, she has learned much from her time alone."

The Witch Doctor sombered. "I am aware of your plight, Draco Malfoy. Such a pity your mate is trapped in such a curse. Though, I am to believe, you are quite the aficionado at riddles."

Malfoy grimaced and waited for the Witch Doctor to go on.

"And I can feel your life force fading from here," the Witch Doctor said with a tilt of his head. "Such a shame. Weeks left, is it?"

Hermione startled in her seat, her head snapping around in an instant to face Malfoy.

"Weeks," she hissed, her heart dropping into her stomach. He shot her a tight look.

"I might ask you," Malfoy said, turning back to the Witch Doctor, "if you would consider lifting Hermione's curse early – or if there is something we could do."

"I'm afraid the curse has been cast," the Witch Doctor said with a dark chuckle. "Hermione Granger must live with the consequences of her actions. I only regret it may cost you, an innocent bystander, your life."

Hermione choked a breath. " _Please_ ," she said, leaning forward in her seat. "Is there nothing you will do to help him?"

"The fact that you ask, Hermione Granger, shows you have not learned the consequences of altering the natural course of things." The Witch Doctor shook his head and took a leisurely sip of his tea. "Though might I suggest, you look _closer_ at the conditions of your curse."

Hermione froze – the warning bells had re-appeared, at the forefront of her mind this time. She _had_ overlooked something.

"It's the humility, isn't it?" she asked, voice rising with desperation. "The humility and wisdom?"

"Very good," the Witch Doctor said, steepling his fingers. "You have spent two years hiding alone in the wilderness – I daresay you would have remained a lion until your thousand days were up, had Draco Malfoy not re-entered your life. But where, Hermione Granger, is the wisdom in that?"

She couldn't breathe. It was as she had feared, then.

"So the curse won't break after a thousand days?" she asked, her voice scarcely above a whisper. She couldn't bring herself to face Malfoy, not when she had been so terribly, incomprehensibly, _wrong_. Her cheeks flamed, hot and miserable, with her shame.

"It would not have," the Witch Doctor agreed. "The length of time was _not_ the only condition of your curse. Nor was your self-imposed isolation. The solace I might offer you, Hermione Granger, is that time remains still, that you might yet correct your course. There is one condition that may supersede the others."

Malfoy spoke the words she couldn't manage. "What can she do to correct her course?"

"Wisdom can be learned, Hermione Granger. Humility can be sought, through experiences in which one endeavours to learn from others, and from their own mistakes." The Witch Doctor tilted his head, looking more pensive than she had ever seen him. "I do not wish for your veela mate to die, although there is nothing I can do for your curse."

"Is there any way to save him?" Hermione gasped, fearing the answer as much as she needed it.

"This is an answer you must learn on your own," the Witch Doctor shook his head.

"You need to give us something," Malfoy ground through his teeth. " _Some_ sort of answer, please! This is our last hope!"

Hermione glanced over and his hands were clenched; she could see the air around them shimmering, like pavement on a hot day.

She caught his gaze, silently imploring him to hold his temper in check. The last thing they needed was for both of them to end up cursed.

"What can I do," Hermione pleaded, "to help him."

"I cannot see all paths," the Witch Doctor said, vaguely.

"But you foresaw this," she continued, planting a hand on the table beside her untouched tea cup. "You _knew_ my veela mate would seek me out, and that I would be unable to accept the bond?"

"I foresaw your mate," the Witch Doctor said stiffly. "Our choices in life determine the paths we follow. Your understanding of your curse determined your choices. I did not know this would be your outcome."

"Then we can still change this," she whispered, tears breaking from her eyes. "Please, can you tell me anything."

"Your attempts are admirable," the Witch Doctor said simply.

Malfoy stood, his hands steaming. His jaw clenched as he towered over the Witch Doctor, who remained seated.

"Enough of this," he hissed. His eyes, more silver than grey, flashed, and Hermione rose, quickly catching his arm. He ignored her, his titanium gaze fixed on the Witch Doctor.

The air in the room felt tense and heavy; Hermione wasn't sure whose magic was at play.

"Are you going to help her, or not?" Malfoy asked, glaring at the mystic. His breathing was harsh, his chest heaving. Hermione couldn't be sure, but it was as if his features were sharpening before her eyes.

The Witch Doctor paused, perhaps sensing the pure power emanating from Malfoy. He rose, keeping the table between them.

"I cannot do anything for this curse," the Witch Doctor said with finality. "There is a path where she may help herself, _and_ you, though it is faint, and I cannot see whether it is even still possible. I cannot see where it leads, or if there is time."

"Tell her," Malfoy hissed, his hands steaming.

"I will not," the Witch Doctor exclaimed, planting his hands on the table. "Now _leave_."

"Not without answers," Malfoy said. Hermione could see now, the veela emerging. In the way his eyes shifted like molten pools of metal; in the way his pale hair sparkled and shone.

Some sort of power coursed from him, though it was not pheromones. Hermione didn't know what he was capable of like this and the idea terrified her.

The table erupted suddenly in flames and Hermione jumped, a soft scream escaping from her throat. Malfoy and the Witch Doctor remained in a tense standoff around the table, neither glancing down, as if they had both expected it.

"Leave my house," the Witch Doctor stated, his wicked smiles all used up.

"You cast this curse, _undo it_ ," Malfoy hissed, and his fangs were bared as he opened his mouth.

"Malfoy," Hermione hissed, grasping his arm, tentatively, though she knew his flames wouldn't hurt her. It was as if he was in control of them, as the fire on the table had not spread.

"I cannot," the Witch Doctor repeated.

Malfoy threw fire into the wall.

The Witch Doctor shrugged, as he took a cautious step away from the burning table. "I can make her _worse_."

"If you do a thing to my mate," Malfoy hissed, his voice low and clear, "I will end you."

He took Hermione by the arm and moved her behind him, as if he could protect her from the Witch Doctor's wrathful magic.

" _Get out_ ," the Witch Doctor said. "I will not ask you again. I did not want it to come to this."

Malfoy grit his teeth, his brow furrowed. She could see the tension in his back, and jumped back, startled, as white, feathered, ethereal wings wrenched free from his shoulder blades.

Hermione stood frozen, unsure how much of the veela had taken control, and how much was Malfoy as she knew him. His grip remained on her arm, tight and firm. His stance was tense, more animal than human.

"Please," she begged, dropping her face into Malfoy's back between his wings, hoping he could feel the contact – wherever _he_ had gone, somewhere deep inside. "Let's go."

His wings flared out, their utter span taking up the bulk of the hut. Flames danced on his wingtips, as if they might burn the beautiful white feathers to ash, but they did not. Hermione's breath caught in her throat, transfixed. It was the most amazing thing she had ever seen.

"Malfoy," she breathed, peering around his frame.

The Witch Doctor was staring, his jaw clenched and expression uncertain.

Malfoy hissed and sprayed fire around the hut from his free hand; it was growing precariously hot, even though she knew the flames wouldn't hurt her. Sweat raced from her temples.

But still, the Witch Doctor didn't make a move.

Startled, Hermione realized he wasn't going to. He knew he had threatened the mate of a veela. He had probably expected such a reaction. Perhaps – and she suspected as much by the look in his eye as he stared between them – he had simply done it to bear witness.

If there was one thing the Witch Doctor held in reverence, it was the natural workings of ancient magic.

"Hermione Granger," the Witch Doctor said, and Hermione met his gaze, even as Malfoy's firm grip held her back. "I do hope you find the path which you seek. And act fast – you are running out of time. But now, you must leave."

Understanding suddenly, that Malfoy wouldn't leave of his own accord, she pulled him toward the door. Blinking his molten silver gaze at her, Malfoy turned, his eyes narrowing, as she tugged at his hand.

"I want to leave," she whispered, "will you take me out of here?"

"Yes," he said simply, the syllable rolling from his tongue like a caress.

His eyes still trained on the Witch Doctor, who stood within his burning hut as if it were an everyday occurrence, he backed toward the door, keeping Hermione securely at his side.

Then he stepped outside, swung her into his arms as if she weighed nothing, and took to the skies.

* * *

Malfoy's feet touched the ground somewhere in the outback, and Hermione couldn't be certain how long he had been airborne.

His shoulders were heavy, his eyes dull and downcast, returned to their usual shade of grey – his wings slipped into his back like a shadow, as if they hadn't been there at all.

He stumbled forward, catching himself on a tree. His head bent at the neck, his breathing heavy.

"I'm sorry," he choked, after a long moment in which Hermione stood, utterly tense. He shook his head, swallowing. "I ruined your chance at getting rid of the curse."

"He wasn't going to help," Hermione gasped, the words sinking in like a cold, dense weight in her chest. There would be _no_ help. "He had no way to help… he provoked you."

She came near, reaching for him. Shaking, he tore himself away, deeper into the bush.

"Malfoy, wait," she choked, her hand falling to her side. "Don't leave."

He paused, but didn't turn. "You heard him – there's nothing to be done. And my time is all but up. I won't subject you to that."

"Don't you _dare_ give up on me now," Hermione hissed, grabbing hold of him, and hoping they were out of range of the wards, Apparated the two of them back to their hotel room.

Malfoy tried to tear his arm from her grip, but Hermione, sensing his reaction, held firm.

"You heard him," she stated plainly. "It doesn't look good. But if there is a _chance_ , Malfoy –" She choked on a flood of emotion. "If there is any chance at all…"

He glanced at her, his grey eyes listless and forlorn, and it broke Hermione's heart.

She stormed closer. "And I need you by my side for this." She clutched his face, her heart racing. "I _need_ my friend – my partner –" she gasped, tears springing from her eyes, whispering, "I need my _mate_."

"I can't be your mate," he whispered, his eyes shining with desolation and moisture.

"You are," Hermione choked, "you _will_ be."

"I can't do this anymore," he breathed, shaking his head. "I can't keep fighting, Granger – not knowing our last option has failed – I just… can't…"

"There is still hope," she said, imploring him to hold on.

"I'm sorry, Granger," he murmured, "I can't… I just feel…"

He didn't look well at all; his face was pale and sickly, his hair lackluster. She realized with horror the veela was giving up, and taking the man with it.

"Don't," Hermione hissed, tears pouring from her eyes. She grasped his shoulders. "You can't leave me!"

"I love you, Granger," he whispered, an absent, pained smile on his face that broke her spirit. "You are my everything, and I wouldn't trade these past months with you for a thousand lifetimes alone."

"Stop it," she said, choking on a sob. "We can still figure this out… please, Draco."

His hands held her arms, as if he needed her for stability, and he buried his face in her hair. He said, so softly Hermione had to strain to hear, his voice hoarse, "I don't know what to tell you. We gave it our best, Granger. Remember me?"

Tears poured from her eyes as she sniffled. "I could never forget you." She held his hand, moving it to rest on her heart. "This beats only for you…" she gasped, her vision blurry. "You need to stay with me. _Please_." She turned her face alongside his, breathing into his ear, "I love you too, Draco."

His grey eyes met hers, a flash of panic chasing through the tears she saw there.

"I'm sorry I've involved you in this mess," he murmured, his hand clinging to the skin over her heart, as if trying to memorize the feel of it.

"I'm not," Hermione hissed. She stared hard into his eyes, unflinching. "I'll _never_ be sorry I was given the chance to know you. I will only ever be sorry if we don't have enough time."

Tears broke from his eyes as they poured from hers, and Hermione held his face, threw caution to the wind and kissed him.

The moment his lips touched hers, Hermione's mind exploded with the sensation of the contact, her vision bursting into a million facets of light, the emotion between them sweeping across the surface of her skin. She carded her fingers through his pale hair, unsure if the tears coursing down her cheeks were her own, and she pulled back.

He stared at her, his brow furrowed, his grey eyes blinking in shock.

"Granger," he choked, a breath falling sharply from his lips, and with a sort of strangled noise, he dug a hand into her hair and drew her close again, his lips meeting hers with a sort of predatory claim.

Hermione melted into him, surrendering the last of her faculties, her fears, and kissed him like it was the only thing that could ever possibly matter.

His tongue met hers, and Hermione choked at the pure awareness that spread through her veins, the pure _need, desire, want_ for her mate. He clung to her by her arms like she was very literally his lifeline, and as he kissed her, relentless, desirous, Hermione found nothing within her that was willing to fight any more.

If he couldn't survive – she needed him to know she couldn't survive either.

And if this was what it came down to, she could live with the curse knowing he would _live_.

Hermione wasn't going to let him die – and if his veela was going to give up without pursuing that one last, vague option, this would have to do.

She didn't know how much was Draco Malfoy, and how much was the veela seeking to claim his mate, but she shoved him onto the bed all the same, allowing her eyes to fall shut again as he rolled and climbed atop her. And the way he kissed her brought her life, as it seemed too for the veela within him who had all but given up.

She smiled, feeling his elongated fangs trace the skin of her neck, knowing that the fight would soon be over, for better or worse. His battle, finally, would come to an end.

His breath was hot on her neck, his body warm and reassuring, pressed against hers. She met his gaze – molten, silver – and smiled.

His sharp teeth raked her neck again, finding the pulse he had pointed out the night they had arrived in Australia. It was fitting, now, that here – where her struggle began – his would end.

He blinked at her, baring his fangs with a hint of a smirk. He was gone now, surrendered to the veela to keep both sides of him alive. Hermione nodded.

"I need you to survive," she breathed, even as tears broke from her eyes again. Tears of relief, of concern, of fear – it wouldn't matter soon enough. Months of wondering, made irrelevant by necessity.

He blinked again, the silver liquid shifting, and sparkling with hints of grey.

"Granger," he said, his voice hoarse.

"It's okay," she breathed, smiling. "Go ahead."

She dug her fingers into his silken blond hair, moving his face back to her throat.

"Granger," he repeated, his words a growl against her skin. She braced herself, trembling as his lips met the skin of her neck. She waited for a moment that could have been a year. He muttered, "I'm not doing this."

"Yes," she said, "it's okay. I want you to." She met his gaze, pressing her lips to his again. He kissed her, deeply, like he could never tire of it.

"Your curse isn't broken," he whispered, like the words would break him instead, and Hermione knew they would.

"I'm not going to let you die," she whispered in return. "This is how we stay together."

"I can't, Granger," he ground through his teeth, even as he dragged them across her pulse again. His lips ghosted across her neck, her collarbone, her jaw. Tears lingered on her skin as he went.

He wrenched himself away, as if it cost him the last remnants of his strength to do so, and Hermione's eyes fell shut with the loss of him.

He stopped in the threshold of the bathroom, one hand holding himself up against the doorframe as he faced away from her, and muttered, "I'm sorry. I just need a moment."

The door closed gently behind him.

Hermione's face fell to the side, bitter tears of disappointment rolling down her cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath her.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _**I'm sorry, please trust me, I love you.**_


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note _:_** I'm a little nervous to see you all again, after last chapter, so I present this chapter today. Thanks for all the [angry, devastated, anxious] feedback, and to those of you who were upset, I am sorry and I love you, and I hope you've stuck with me even so. xoxoxo

Alpha love to the talented Kyonomiko.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 _ **October 10, 2002**_

Hermione woke the next morning, feeling cold and exhausted. She had cried silent tears into the night, her heart utterly lost of hope.

After Malfoy had returned to the room, his grey eyes dull and empty, he had settled himself on the balcony. Hermione had sat with him, silently holding his hand, until she had dozed off so many times he ushered her inside to sleep.

But she feared for him, and for the health of the veela within.

As if sensing how distraught she had become, the riddles had even subsided for the time being, reminding Hermione of the last time the riddles had vanished and then returned several days later. She supposed she ought to have asked the Witch Doctor about the anomalies – but given nothing could be done for the curse, it probably wouldn't have mattered anyway.

It seemed, now, at some point he must have returned inside and collapsed on the other bed. Blinking warily, she rose and crossed to his bed, hoping he wouldn't push her away. A small, terrified part of her was worried he might not wake.

But he stirred, turning to face her, his expression blank. Silently, he wrapped his arms around her, tugging her closer. Hermione entangled her feet with his and pulled the blankets over them both.

"Draco," she murmured. He cracked one eye, staring at her. "Please don't give up on me."

"No," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple, "for as long as I can be, I'm here with you."

"Okay," she said, her voice shaky.

All she could do now, was to cling to the one last hope the Witch Doctor had unwittingly given her. That there was still _one_ potential path she could go down, in which she could free herself, _and_ complete the bond. She feared it was the only way he would willingly agree.

She had faced lower odds.

And if she had to, she would immobilize him and shove her throat onto his fangs. A bond was a bond, she supposed, and all that mattered anymore was his survival. She suspected Nott would help her with that, if it came to it.

That unsettling thought on her mind, she drifted back into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Draco slowly packed his things into a bag. He hadn't told Granger, but it felt as if his brain was only working at half capacity. Like he hadn't slept in days, or his entire body had gone numb and clumsy.

He could feel the veela preparing to shut down – it very nearly had after the disappointing visit to the Witch Doctor yesterday. He believed it was only because of Granger sharing her feelings with him – kissing him – that yesterday hadn't been the end.

He knew his time was nearly up, as the healers reminded him weekly. But he could die, knowing Granger would be alright. What he couldn't do was live, knowing he had caused her immeasurable, permanent pain.

He knew Granger didn't understand, and Theo didn't understand, either.

But they didn't have a veela along for the ride. He wouldn't have expected them to.

The way Granger had kissed him – Draco's head was still spinning, his heart still pounding against the inside of his ribcage as he recalled the taste of her lips. It had been more than he would have hoped for – he only wished she had done it as a result of good news, rather than bad.

He could kiss her for the rest of his life. He could touch her, and hold her, and sleep beside her, and never grow sick of it.

It was a desperate longing he had scarcely allowed himself to think of. But now… knowing the end was growing so close, their hopes dwindled to almost nothing – maybe some happy thoughts wouldn't go entirely amiss.

He packed Granger's books back up again, his hands lingering on the soft cover of the one he had nearly opened several days prior, the one which explained the intricacies around being the mate of a veela.

His heart stuttered. She was simply everything.

Granger emerged from the loo, and she gazed at him. Draco smiled in return, draping his arms over her shoulders. Surprised, Granger smiled up at him; he could see the deep sadness in her eyes, and he was sure it echoed in his own. He didn't let on that he was supporting himself on her weight. He was so easily fatigued.

"Do you want to see your parents again before we leave?" he asked, turning to tuck the book away.

She worried her lip for a moment before shaking her head. "No," she murmured, "one problem at a time, I think. Let's figure this out, first, and then we will come back together and help my parents."

Draco smiled at her unrelenting positivity. It would help her move on. "That sounds great."

They packed the remainder of their things in silence, then shrank and stowed them.

It was the middle of the night in London, but Granger activated the Portkey anyway, and within a moment they were on their way home.

When they arrived in the flat, the first thing Draco noticed was Theo, sitting wide-eyed at the kitchen table. He nearly leapt out of his seat at their sudden appearance, and hastily gathered a pile of letters.

"Hi," Draco said, eyeing the stack of parchment with speculation.

"You're home!" Theo exclaimed, then grimaced as he looking between Draco and Granger. He hesitated for a moment, appraising their expressions. "Did it… not go well, then?"

"No," Granger sighed, dropping into the chair at the end of the table. "The Witch Doctor couldn't help us. Other than to say there is a _very_ slight chance we both make it through this in the way we would like."

"So," Theo said, dragging out the word. "You're still going to complete the bond anyway, right? I mean, Draco's got –"

"Around two weeks, give or take," Draco cut in, running a hand through his hair. "And no."

Granger narrowed her eyes and exchanged a glance with Theo that Draco wasn't quite comfortable with. Draco could see the dark circles under her eyes, indicative of a sleepless night, and guilt rolled through him.

"Well, Draco, that doesn't seem –"

"Theo," Draco said, cutting off his friend as he collapsed into the free seat at the table. "Please, just not now."

"Fine, we'll just wait until –"

"What in the name of Merlin are _you_ doing?" Draco asked, feeling irritation swell within him. "Who are all these letters from?"

"No one," Theo hissed, "They're just old letters."

Draco stabbed one with a fingertip, attempting to drag it closer. Theo snatched it back, with what sounded almost like a snarl.

"It's nothing important," Theo said, attempting nonchalance but Draco saw through it. Then Theo frowned. "At least, no more important than the fact that you're going to let yourself fucking die –"

"Theo!" Draco exclaimed, running his hands through his hair. " _Please_. Just _not right now_."

Fatigue had encompassed him to the point where he could scarcely keep his eyes open. The veela within him was moping, allowing his despair to take over Draco's spirit.

"I need to sleep," Draco announced to the room. "I feel quite poorly. Theo, you can give me shite later when I wake up."

Theo scowled, but nodded, exchanging another suspect glance with Granger. Too exhausted to worry about it or even change his clothing, Draco made his way into his room and was asleep the moment his head hit his pillow.

* * *

Hermione frowned at the hallway where Malfoy had been for a few long moments after he had vanished. He thought he was hiding it, but she could see the emotional and physical toll the visit with the Witch Doctor had taken.

She turned to Nott, who began idly thumbing through his stack of letters. He turned cool eyes on her.

"So?" he asked, "what actually happened?"

"More or less what we said," Hermione said, collapsing on the table. She was incredibly fatigued as well, but she needed to talk to Nott. "The Witch Doctor said he could see a path in which everything worked out, but it was faint, and we were nearly out of time. I tried to get him to proceed with the bond last night – I thought he was going to, he was so far gone into the veela – but he still stopped himself."

"Stubborn bugger," Nott snapped, shaking his head. Hermione frowned, chewing her lip.

"Nott," Hermione said, "I need your help."

Nott turned to her, staring through a tense pause. "In convincing him."

"Yes," Hermione said, her tone pleading. "I _can't_ let him die. He can barely stand, or stay awake… you should have seen him after the Witch Doctor said he couldn't help. I think he nearly gave up right then."

"Well, he won't talk to me about it," Nott said, frowning. "Do you have a plan?"

"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "If there is only one potential path that could possibly solve this, as the Witch Doctor suggested, I'll need to figure out what that is. If not…" She drifted off, snagging a hand in her curls as she carded her fingers through them.

"I mean…" Nott snorted. "You could always get pregnant and he will feel obligated to stick around… but then I guess if that were possible, we wouldn't be worrying about him completing the bond."

Hermione stared at him, then started laughing. "We would have to _extract_ his sperm without him noticing, then artificially inseminate me –"

"I don't know what that is," Nott chuckled, "but it sounds like it would take too long."

"It would," Hermione agreed, tittering. "But imagine us trying."

Nott let out a booming laugh at the thought, and Hermione swiped at a tear of laughter breaking down her cheek. Then recalling the dire circumstances, they both soberered, staring at each other.

"I'm just…" she shook her head slightly. "I'm struggling, Nott, and I can't ask Malfoy to help me when I have no idea what I'm looking for. He needs some good news, for _once_. He has dealt with so much already, because of me."

"Well," Nott said, slapping his hands on the table, "it's a good thing you aren't in this alone, isn't it? The great Hermione Granger _doesn't_ have all the answers, so it seems."

Hermione's scoff was half-hearted; her mind and spirit felt simultaneously heavy and anxious.

"Are you above taking him for a guilt trip?" Nott asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm above very little, at this point," she whispered, dropping her head to rest on the table. She let out a long breath. "I just need to save him and I don't know how."

"This sounds like a situation where we ought to bring in the big guns," Nott said thoughtfully. He drew a blank sheet of parchment and a quill before him and started scribbling a letter.

"Who are you owling?" Hermione asked, glancing sidelong at the parchment.

Nott grinned. "His mother."

* * *

Three hours of mediocre sleep later, Hermione found herself leaving the flat with Nott, who had a bag of blood in one hand and his daytime tonic in the other – Malfoy was still asleep, and after ensuring he was still breathing, the two of them had left to meet Narcissa.

Hermione felt a certain modicum of guilt over going behind his back, but things were getting desperate, and she refused to let him die.

She figured they would have the rest of their lives together to earn his forgiveness.

Nott had still been at the kitchen table when she awoke, empty bags of blood spread across the table, and she suspected he hadn't slept at all.

"You're owling Sally-Anne, aren't you," she murmured, lips twitching.

"I –" Nott's head swivelled to face hers. "Don't tell Draco."

"You should tell him," Hermione mused. "He could use some happy news about now."

"It's hardly _happy_ ," Nott scoffed. "She's trying to escape from Sanguini's colony, but every time she attempts to get away someone wants to _sing_ with her, or play games, and –" He shook his head. "It all sounds incredibly bizarre."

Hermione snickered. "You should go rescue her."

"One daring rescue at a time for me," Nott said with a wry grin. "Come on, let's go. Ideally we'll be back by the time Draco wakes up so he doesn't light me on fire."

"Right." Hermione took a deep breath and nodded. Nott had produced what she was certain was an illegal Portkey to her old cave, in case any riddles came up that he was unable to answer. She wondered why she hadn't thought of such a thing when she went to meet Harry and Ron.

She also neglected to tell him that the riddles had been suspiciously absent for a day or so.

Narcissa Malfoy was already waiting at the small tea parlour which she had designated to Nott via responding owl. She raised a brow as the two of them approached, gazing between them with consternation.

"Miss Granger," she greeted, with a tilt of the head. "Theodore."

"Narcissa," Hermione returned, as Nott grinned. "Thank you for meeting us on such short notice."

"Theodore's owl sounded incredibly urgent," Narcissa responded. Her brow furrowed. "I do hope this is not about Draco's condition?"

"Unfortunately it is," Nott said.

"And it's more complicated than you realize." Hermione took a deep breath. "Narcissa, we need your help. It's a long story."

"Then you ought to begin," Narcissa murmured, her blue eyes encouraging. "And I will help in whatever way I can."

Hermione shared a grimace with Nott, and the two of them told Narcissa Malfoy everything.

* * *

An hour later, Narcissa sat staring blankly, her lips parted, as she gazed between the two of them. Three cups of tea sat, cold and untouched, on the table before them.

"You speak the truth, then?" she asked. "This curse is the reason Draco will not accept the bond?"

"We couldn't make up something this fucked –"

"Yes," Hermione said, interrupting Nott with a glare. "We have spent months trying to figure out a way to remove the curse _and_ complete the bond in time. Research and curse-breakers, and a visit back to Australia – and all for naught. I am afraid we are nearly out of time and Draco refuses to accept the bond while I remain cursed, though I've tried to tell him I care more about his survival."

"If there is one thing I know about veelas, Miss Granger, it is that they will refuse to do anything to harm their mate." Narcissa frowned, her lips pressing together. "But this sorcerer," she said, waving a hand, "he said there was an option remaining?

"The Witch Doctor was not very confident in the last remaining option." Hermione frowned. "But it's the only thing I have left."

Narcissa sighed heavily. "I see the problem – and I thank you for coming to me with the truth. Sometimes Draco feels the need to protect me, and his intentions are misguided."

"Any ideas?" Nott asked, frowning. "Draco isn't, strictly, doing _well_.'

"Australia took a big toll on him," Hermione elaborated. She sagged in her seat. "I don't know how to help him. I'm at a complete loss."

Narcissa took a sip of her tea and steepled her fingers. "I find I'm curious about the _humility_ aspect of this curse. Is there a chance you're looking in the wrong place for a solution? Perhaps it simply means putting someone else before yourself, and this is all an elaborate test?"

"I don't know anymore." A breath caught in her throat. "The Witch Doctor said I was wrong. That I had been interpreting the curse wrong, all this time. I just – need to figure out this last option."

"Here are my thoughts, Granger, and you probably won't like them," Nott interceded, leaning in across the table. His hood fell deeply across his face, making him look both menacing and entirely out of place in such a delicate locale.

In Hermione's exhaustion, she idly wondered whether Narcissa knew about Nott's vampirism.

"You said your main concern is saving Draco from the veela giving up," Nott continued. "We need him to accept the bond, despite the curse. What if he believes you have been _relieved_ of your curse?"

"It's all I care about anymore. But what do you mean?" Hermione asked, making a face as she turned to him. "How would I convince him of that?"

Narcissa held up a finger in Nott's direction, nodding. "Miss Granger," she mused, "it seems to me as if you find difficulty in asking for help."

"Understatement," Nott grumbled under his breath.

Hermione gazed between the two of them, her despair accumulating as a hard lump in her throat. Her hands clenched the table, white-knuckled. "I just need to save him."

"I think a good plan of action is to persuade Draco into believing you have been released from your curse," Narcissa said, nodding at Nott again.

"But if we simply tell him," Nott said, frowning, "he'll suspect something. We need Draco to come to the idea on his own."

Hermione's mind was abuzz with a million thoughts, none of them stopping long enough to give her any concrete ideas. "Are you sure this is our best option? Maybe we should focus on what the Witch Doctor –"

"Granger," Nott said, shaking his head. "Accept help, yeah?"

Gaping at him, Hermione raised her hands in forfeiture. She swallowed heavily, a mumbled, "Okay."

"How will we convince Draco?" Narcissa asked, her brows high. "What will make him believe the curse is truly gone of its own accord?"

"The art of subtlety," Nott said, clapping his hands together. "A Slytherin specialty."

* * *

Draco emerged from his room, having slept on and off for several hours. He made his way into the sitting room, his brain still blurry as he gazed around.

Theo's stack of parchment had been cleared from the table and was nowhere to be seen.

Neither were Theo or Granger.

He frowned, ducking his head into the kitchen.

"Theo?" he called, scratching the back of his neck. He blinked several times, and took a seat on the couch. "Granger?"

His entire body ached with a pain he hadn't expected. He had felt, over the last few months, the growing struggle the veela within him had been facing.

But since his trip to Australia with Granger, since the dismal news that the Witch Doctor could be of no help – Draco could hardly keep his eyes open. His entire soul felt drained, as if he had been spread too thin, and his spring of magic had started to dwindle.

"Granger?" he repeated, staring blankly around the sitting room.

His heart rate started to increase when he once again received no response, and made his way down the hallway towards her bedroom. It was nearly lunch time, and Nott was likely asleep, but Granger usually thought to tell him when she was leaving.

Perhaps she hadn't wanted to disturb his sleep. Maybe she had needed to go to her forest to run.

He chewed his tongue, lamenting the trouble he had caused his mate. He wished he hadn't put her through any of this – and despite the veela within him being so terribly self-sacrificing, Draco couldn't bring himself to regret any of the time he had spent with her, even as it all came down like this.

"Hi," Granger said suddenly, peering out from the loo. She seemed out of breath and Draco stared at her for a long moment.

"Hello," Draco responded, his brows flickering when Nott stepped out of the loo as well.

"Granger was explaining the plumbing," Nott said with an awkward wave of one hand. "You know. The taps and things. Sometimes I get curious."

"The plumbing," Draco repeated.

Granger pressed her lips together and nodded. "It was a side interest of my father's. I know more about plumbing than I would care to."

"Fascinating," Draco murmured, turning back to the sitting room. He was keen to escape _that_ conversation. As he settled himself on the couch beneath a blanket – he found himself to be quite cold – he heard Nott's door click shut, and Granger was suddenly seated beside him.

Smiling, Draco let his eyes slip shut as she burrowed into his side, grateful to have this time remaining with her.


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note _:_** Thank you guys so SO much for all the love on this fic. It's really been lovely to have you all on this trip with me. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Also, for those of you who are in the Dramione Facebook groups, I was asked to do an AMA, or "Ask Me Anything" on Strictly Dramione, this coming Monday, July 30th, starting at 7:00am CST, 2:00 PM BST etc. I hope some of you stop by to say hello! ^^

Alpha love to the talented Kyonomiko.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 **October 11, 2002**

Draco awoke late in the morning and emerged to the sitting room, taking his place on the couch. His head still felt fuzzy, though not nearly as badly as it had done the day before.

Granger and Nott were already seated at the kitchen table; Nott had another letter in front of him and Draco raised a brow, vowing to ask Granger who Nott was owling so frequently and privately, given the two of them had been getting along so much better lately, since the fiasco with Sally-Anne.

They both turned to greet him; Granger's brilliant smile lit up his heart.

"Pancakes?" she exclaimed and Draco smiled back, nodding. "I'm just making some! Can I get you some tea?"

Draco's smile faltered for a moment. "Please, thank you." He gave her a look as she delivered a steaming cup of tea. "I'm not useless, Granger, you don't need to wait on me."

"But can't I be nice?" she threw back, and returned to her pancakes.

Draco shook his head, blinking at her behaviour.

"Any change since yesterday?" he heard Nott ask, quietly enough that Draco could only assume he was speaking to Granger. Interest piqued, Draco turned to watch the two of them.

Granger faced Nott, pressing her back against the kitchen cupboards. She chewed her lip, deep in thought. "No, nothing. I always transform every night and every morning just to make sure. But nothing since Australia."

Draco frowned, twisting further to face her. Her face was scrunched with discernment.

"And no riddles either," Nott said, scratching the back of his head. "Odd, isn't it?"

" _Incredibly_ ," Granger said, flipping some pancakes that were beyond Draco's line of sight. Her voice dropped. "Do you truly think it's possible?"

"That your curse was actually somehow lifted?" Nott shrugged and Draco's heart leapt into his throat. He opened his mouth to interrupt their conversation but found himself without words. "Maybe the Witch Doctor was testing you, and he decided to help after all?"

"I find it hard to believe it could be that simple," Granger said quietly, shaking her head as she removed a stack of plates from the cupboard.

It was as if they had forgotten Draco was sitting in the next room. Granger had been unable to transform into her lion? He supposed he had been so out of it since they had left Australia, he hadn't been awake long enough to see if she was spouting riddles as usual.

Draco frowned as Granger delivered him a set of cutlery. He met her gaze with a furrowed brow. "Your transformation has stalled again?" he asked.

"Not since we returned home," Granger said, chewing her lip. "And not one riddle. Nott thinks –" she cut herself off, shaking her head. "Well, it's impossible. I just hope the magic isn't backfiring again."

"Do you suppose we ought to go see Bill again?" Draco softly, hardly allowing himself to even think of it. "Just to be sure?"

Nott dropped down into the armchair, tilting his head in Granger's direction. "That isn't a bad idea. He can check and see if the curse is still operating, yeah?"

"Well, I suppose I could owl him," Granger said, her expression almost apologetic. "I didn't want to mention anything to you because it could just be the magic flaring up again. But Nott seems to think it's a sign the curse has been somehow removed."

"I'm just saying," Theo said, raising his hands, "maybe this Witch Doctor wasn't so big of an arse after all. You said yourselves, he didn't want to see Draco die over it, right?"

Draco gaped between the two of them. It was a turn of events he had never so much as considered. He couldn't keep the stutter from his heart, even as he cursed himself for the hope. Could it possibly be true?

"No, but he also said he couldn't remove the curse," Granger said, perching on the armrest.

"Of course he said that at the time," Nott scoffed. "Isn't he incredibly powerful? What sort of powerful magical sorcerer casts a spell he can't undo? And furthermore, what seer doesn't see if he won't regret something and work in a failsafe?"

Draco wasn't certain he was breathing.

Granger threw her hands up. "I'll owl Bill, but Draco I just… I didn't want us to get our hopes up. This has all happened before, with the riddles vanishing and the transformation failing –"

"And what happened to the power of positive thinking!" Nott exclaimed, rising from his seat. "I'll get your burnt pancakes, Granger."

"Oh!" Granger exclaimed, following Nott into the kitchen.

Draco's heart was still pounding ferociously inside his chest when Granger delivered him a plate of half-burnt pancakes. He chewed them, not tasting the flavour, as he watched Granger send an owl, not _daring_ to let in a hope.

* * *

Hermione glanced at Malfoy, making certain he was asleep, before turning back to Nott.

"You're sure Bill's going to go along with this?" she asked, chewing her tongue as she put the clean dishes back in the cupboard.

"Yes," Nott said absently, "Narcissa's already contacted him. He wasn't sure about taking away your ability to escape the curse like that, but he understands. She simply told him to consider the same situation if it had been him and Fleur."

"Okay," Hermione said, her mind still chasing the million ways this could backfire, and it would be the last of their time used up, when she could be pursuing that one remaining, elusive option.

"Granger," Nott said, turning to her. "Have some faith, okay? Trust us that this will work. You don't _need_ to solve everything on your own."

Hermione turned back to him, touched. "I appreciate your help, Nott. You know I do."

"Well, I'm not just doing it for you," Nott said softly. "Although you really helped me with Sally-Anne, and I can't forget that. We're going to figure this out, Granger."

"Okay," she muttered. "I'll arrange a meeting with Bill, then."

Nott glanced at Malfoy, seated but asleep on the couch, tucked beneath a blanket, his chin dropped against his chest. "It would be convenient for scheming that he's always falling asleep if it wasn't so damn terrifying."

Hermione huffed a sharp breath in agreement and sat down to write a letter to Bill.

* * *

Draco blinked awake and flinched when he saw both Theo and Granger staring closely at him, neither of them blinking.

"Did I miss psychopath training day?" he grumbled, throwing the thick blanket from his overheated body.

Granger offered a nervous sort of giggle, and Theo remained stoic.

"We heard back from Bill," Theo announced. "He is available today to run some tests on Granger and see about the status of the curse. He said to go by at any point."

Draco frowned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He shook his head, his stomach rolling with nerves. "What if this is all a trick? One last attempt to throw us off."

"Was he _that_ terrible of a person?" Theo asked, raising a dark eyebrow. He was idly passing a bag of blood back and forth between his hands, and Draco found himself momentarily transfixed.

"I nearly burnt down his hut," Draco replied, deadpan.

"Semantics," Theo drawled with a dismissive wave of one hand. "Draco, I know you don't want to get your hopes up, but _what if_ the curse is truly lifted?"

"Then…" he trailed off, not having really let himself consider the possibility. It was such an abstract idea at this point, the fact that he might actually be able to complete the mating bond with Granger, that Draco could scarcely wrap his hazy brain around it. Swallowing hard, he met Granger's shining gaze. He choked out, "Then it would be everything."

Granger's hand found his.

"Do you want to go see Bill?" she asked, her voice low and breathy, as if with anticipation.

Draco felt a cold sort of dread build in his gut. He just couldn't see how it could be so simple. The last thing they all needed was to fall for a false hope.

But Granger was staring at him with a deeply veiled hope in her face, and he had to make this effort, for her. If – somehow, by some miracle – her curse _was_ lifted…

Draco cleared his throat and averted his gaze, hoping she couldn't see the moisture that had abruptly gathered in his eyes.

"Sure, Granger, let's go see Bill."

He tried to quell the shake to his hand as he clutched her hand tighter, and allowed her to Apparate the two of them to Shell Cottage.

* * *

Draco stood beside Granger on the front step, his brain a hive of anxious activity, his heart racing in its cavity as Granger knocked on the door.

"Hermione," Bill said with a grin as he swung the door open, "and Malfoy."

The man clapped Draco on the shoulder and he forced a grin to his face, even as he could scarcely hear over the roar of blood in his ears.

"Bill," he greeted, nodding. "Thanks for seeing us on short notice."

"Absolutely," Bill said, shaking his head in dismissal. "Hermione said something might have changed with her curse?" He turned to Hermione, who shot Draco a nervous smile.

"We just aren't sure, Bill," Granger said, fidgeting with her hands. "We visited the original caster of the curse, and while he said he couldn't reverse the spell, the symptoms have mysteriously vanished since returning to England."

Draco blinked, feeling a breath catch. Something felt out of place but he couldn't sort what it was.

"Wouldn't that be something," Bill said softly. "Well, come in then."

Draco sat at the kitchen table with Fleur, his skin feeling numb even as he absently sipped a cup of tea, watching as Bill cast the simple diagnostic spells he had done the first time.

While he knew, that if by some chance, Granger's curse _had_ been lifted, his life would suddenly look entirely different – Draco couldn't help but feel as if it was some sinister trick. He wouldn't believe it until he heard it in Bill's professional opinion.

Oddly, it was a relief that Fleur was sitting with him, as a sort of quiet comfort. If anyone could understand his side of the situation – which he knew even Theo and Granger didn't quite comprehend – it would be Fleur.

He had half expected Theo and Granger to try and convince him to accept the bond, despite Granger's curse still being in place. But he simply couldn't explain _why_ he could never do such a thing to his mate.

He yawned widely, feeling exhaustion creep up on him again. For all he had slept the last few days, he still felt a ubiquitous fatigue, and he knew it was his body fighting with its last reserves to keep the veela within him alive.

His teacup rattled against his saucer as Granger and Bill sat at the table, Granger slipping into the seat beside him. Carefully, he set the cup down.

Bill was waving his wand, casting another series of spells, and results populated on a sheet of parchment before him. Draco couldn't make any sense of the numbers and letters that appeared, but it seemed Bill could, as his eyebrows raised in response.

His lips parted, brow furrowing with a slight shake of his head. It felt as if time had stopped, those agonizing minutes of waiting.

"I don't know what to say," he finally announced to the room. "Hermione shows no evidence of any curse."

Draco's heart leapt into his throat. For a long moment he stared at his teacup, not breathing.

Then Granger's breath hitched beside him, and when he glanced over her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

"How can that be?" she gasped. "It's… released my magic?"

Bill pressed his lips together as he stared at Granger. "Your magic is clear. Your blood, your aura, your physical body. No curse."

"Could this be a trick?" Draco asked, his voice coming out thin, sounding unlike him.

"If it is," Bill said, releasing a long exhale, "it's one I've never seen. Curse-breaking magic is highly comprehensive, even the spells I've cast here, without all of the proper testing equipment. It is… quite difficult to fool."

"I can hardly believe it," Granger said, her hand slipping to grasp his, where it rested against his thigh.

It took Fleur, gazing at Draco with tears in her eyes, and a subtle, slow nod, for the news to sink in.

"No curse," Draco gasped, blinking back dust. He chanced a careful look at Granger. "Should we do the more comprehensive testing, just to be sure?"

"Draco," Granger murmured, and he stared at her, her chocolate eyes brimming with hope. "It's gone. It's all going to be okay."

Draco released another trapped breath, biting hard on his lower lip as a flood of emotion threatened to overtake him. He simply brought Granger's hand to rest against his cheek as he nodded, lost for words.

* * *

Hermione Apparated a semi-catatonic veela home from Bill and Fleur's cottage, uncertain of how she felt.

She could barely look at him, knowing the depth of the deception she was performing. Despite that it wasn't her plan, she was going along with it, shouldering just as much responsibility.

She just didn't know what else she could do.

Every time she so much as thought about him dying – about him _sacrificing_ himself – an agonized wave of desperation swept through her bones, to her very core.

She knew he would feel betrayed, and hurt, and he would hate himself for completing the bond when he invariably learned the truth. Maybe he would even hate her, and Nott and his mother. One day, when the riddles returned.

But she just couldn't sit idly by and watch him waste away. She couldn't _let him die_.

She hated to give up on that one last chance the Witch Doctor had offered – the distant, vague path that may or may not have led to everything working out together. But she simply didn't have time, and had surrendered herself to following the plot Nott and Narcissa had concocted, for better or worse.

She had resigned herself to remaining cursed, months ago, if it meant he would survive. And in Australia, when she had kissed him – when she had told him she loved him – the belief had solidified into something concrete.

To the point where she was willing to give up her last remaining hope, to set aside her need to solve this… and to simply let things fall where they would.

A heavy, thick feeling hung in her throat as she settled Malfoy into his position on the couch, his eyelids already fluttering again. She took the seat beside him.

She would now have to broach the idea of completing the mating bond, which would be made all the more complicated by the fact that he couldn't stay awake.

"So?" Nott asked, leaning against the wall of the hallway. "What did Bill say?"

Malfoy's head snapped back against the couch and his eyes widened. He glanced at Hermione, his expression unreadable.

"Bill says her curse is gone," Malfoy explained, his voice soft and unsteady, as if he still didn't quite believe it.

Nott gaped, his nonchalance gone as he rushed to the armchair. "What do you mean, gone? The Witch Doctor released the curse after all?"

Hermione chewed her lip as she met Nott's significant hazel gaze.

"Apparently," she breathed, resting a hand on Malfoy's arm, just to feel the comfort of his presence. "I don't know how this could have happened."

"Granger," Nott muttered, snapping his fingers in deliberation, "what's that phrase the Muggles use? About a horse and gifts and things?"

"That's the phrase," Hermione said, giggling a bit despite herself and the gravity of the situation. "More or less."

Malfoy stared between the two of them, looking utterly baffled.

"It just means, when you've received a gift, don't question it but be grateful," Hermione murmured. Malfoy's brows flickered.

"How do we not?" he asked, looking honestly at each of them in turn. "The Witch Doctor refused to help – he explicitly said he could _not_ – and now this? Are you _sure_ you can't transform?"

"Bill said the curse was gone, Draco," Hermione whispered, meeting his gaze. "I _know_ it seems too good to be true."

"Look," Nott said, leaning forward in his seat. He tore open a bag of blood and took a long pull before continuing. "You wanted a way for Granger to be free of the curse, so you could complete the mating bond." He stared at Malfoy, his brows high. "Granger is free of the curse – you can complete the mating bond."

Malfoy huffed, shrugging. "I just don't understand."

"Mating bond," Nott repeated, drawing out the syllables. "Like, not this moment, obviously, while I'm here. In fact, give me a heads up so I can step out –"

"Shut up, Nott," Malfoy grumbled, but there was the slightest hint of a smile on his face. One Hermione hadn't seen since Australia, and she felt relief pour over her. She knew it wouldn't be easy for him to accept, but she had simply hoped she could rely on Nott's and Narcissa's superior knowledge of the blond.

His grey eyes caught hers. "It isn't that I'm not grateful, if the Witch Doctor did, for some reason, change his mind."

"I know," Hermione mused, "it's hard for me to comprehend as well. But, if the curse is gone… well, this is what we've spent months trying to figure out."

Malfoy blinked as he stared at her, as if the thought was finally sinking in.

"You can be my mate," he breathed.

Hermione nearly averted her eyes in shame. "Yes," she replied. "I will."

He brought her hand to his lips, gently dragging his teeth along the skin of her palm, even as his eyes held hers.

"Just…" he murmured, "now? Or…"

"I'll go," Nott said quickly, waving towards the door. "Have at it."

"I don't know," Hermione admitted. Somehow, the suddenness of it felt strange, as if she hadn't quite thought it through past this point.

She simply knew that, the last time they riddles had vanished, they had returned within a couple of days.

It was a genuine, fortuitous stroke of luck that the riddles had chosen this time to fall away, although the magic had been acting up more frequently as time progressed. She feared the whole plan could still be derailed if they returned prematurely.

"Maybe we ought to," she found herself saying, even as she hated herself for the hope in his eyes, "tonight. Since you've been feeling so ill."

"Tomorrow," he said, a smile curving his lips. He bit down on the knuckle of his index finger as he stared at her. "I want to plan something nice."

His eyes were lit up for the first time in days, and Hermione wanted to cry at the sight of it. In relief, that they would finally complete the bond – that he would survive, that his pain would end. And also because she couldn't stand to betray him, even knowing it was for his own good – because she knew that would still hurt him, too.

She wasn't sure how badly that would hurt him.

"Okay," Hermione breathed, tracing the back of his hand with her fingertips. "Tomorrow."


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note _:_** You guys are all fantastic. Your warm comments make me really emotional, and you get this chapter early for a number of reasons, partly because of scheduling and various upcoming works, but mostly because I left you at an obnoxious point, and because I love you guys.

Thanks as always to Kyonomiko for the valuable insight with this story.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 **October 12, 2002**

Hermione blinked sharply awake at a knock on the door. A quick glance at her watch suggested she had slept later than usual. As the memories from the previous day settled themselves at the forefront of her brain, she stifled a groan.

She'd had trouble falling asleep the night before, a mixture of nerves and guilt stirring at her.

"Come in," she muttered, rubbing her eyes as she sat up, making sure she was decent.

Her door swung open and Malfoy stood on the threshold, his grey eyes lit up with a deep-seated excitement she didn't know that she had ever seen from him before.

"Hi," he said, pressing his lips together, and then smiling. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"It's okay," Hermione said, returning the smile, even as she picked at a tangle of curls. "I ought to get up, anyway. Suppose I had trouble falling asleep last night."

"Same," he confided, gazing at her for a long moment. He sidled into the room, settling himself at the foot of her bed. "Not having second thoughts?"

"Of course not," Hermione assured him, shifting to sit beside him in just her sleep top and shorts. She slipped her hand into his. "Nerves, I guess."

Malfoy opened his mouth as if to say something, and then closed it again, his expression soft. "I can still hardly believe this. I spent half the night having nightmares that your curse wasn't _actually_ lifted."

Hermione offered a shrug, and then made a face as if she were concentrating. "No lion," she finally said, dismissive. "However it happened, it's a good thing."

He stared at her for another long moment, his gaze reverent. His eyes were flecked with the silver she had come to associate with the veela side of him. She wondered which side she would see when they completed the bond later on. Or how much of the veela side would take over.

"Tonight," he finally breathed, "you'll be my mate."

Malfoy grinned, a crooked smile of relief, layered with happiness, and sparkling with love. Hermione blinked, her mouth suddenly dry.

"Yes," she whispered, caught in his ethereal beauty.

"I have to prepare," he said airily, looking around her room. "So you need to stay here."

"You don't need to do anything crazy," Hermione said, knowing how easily exhausted he had been lately. "I don't need… anything special."

"Noted," he murmured, "nothing crazy or special."

Malfoy smiled absently, squeezing her hand. He leaned in, dropping a feather-light kiss to her cheek. Hermione's eyes fluttered shut at the feel of it. He hesitated, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth this time.

Hermione turned her face towards his, her heart racing at the light touches, and his lips brushed against hers, igniting the spark in her chest. He caught her lower lip between his teeth, running his tongue along the sensitive flesh, and Hermione barely caught a whimper from slipping out.

He pressed his forehead to hers, and Hermione could feel his breathing as puffs of air against her mouth as she opened her eyes to meet his. One of his hands idly grazed the side of her arm.

"I'll see you later."

Hermione blinked, catching the hint of a smirk on his lips as he rose from her bed and swept from the room. She let out a harsh breath and leaned back against the headboard as her door gently closed behind him. Her head tilted, a lazy smile crept to her face, and she muttered, "Later."

* * *

"Quit fidgeting," Nott said, as he lay half-contorted across the armchair in the sitting room. "And for fuck's sake, quit pacing."

Hermione shot him a scowl. "Don't you have letters to be sending or something?"

"Not at this exact moment," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "He'll be back when he's back."

"What if something happened?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide as the possible scenarios flashed through her imagination again.

"What if, he's doing as he told you he was, and preparing something for your bond?" Nott grumbled, pulling his hood lower. "I don't know what a love-sick veela deems necessary for a mating bond. Just sit down, and _wait_."

"I can't help it," Hermione admitted, meeting Nott's bloodshot gaze. "I guess – I feel guilty."

"Would you rather feel guilty or watch him die?" Nott snapped. "It sucks to do it this way, but you and I both know it was the _only_ way."

"What was the only way?" asked Malfoy, as he Apparated into the sitting room, looking as chipper as he had earlier. Hermione jumped, clutching her heart as she dropped to the couch.

Hermione glanced at Nott, who half-shrugged a shoulder.

"We were talking about Sally-Anne. And how sending her to Sanguini's colony was the best way for her to become adjusted to vampirism."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at Nott, who positively glowered at Hermione.

"You've been in contact with Sally-Anne?" Malfoy asked, then shook his head. " _That's_ who you've been owling so much."

"Thanks, Granger," Nott hissed, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. He turned to Malfoy, looking defensive. "And so what if I have?"

"So nothing," Malfoy said, blinking. "I'm happy for you."

Nott made a face, his brow furrowing, as if he had expected mockery.

"Sooo…" Malfoy said, turning on the spot to face Hermione. His grey eyes were sparkling with hints of silver again. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," she gasped, feeling a breath catch.

"Have fun, kids," Nott said, leaning back in his chair with a bag of blood. "Be safe, and all that."

Malfoy flipped him off, even as his gaze remained on Hermione. His hand twisted around, extended to her, and Hermione slipped hers into it. His grin set her heart racing, and before she could say a word, she felt the tug of Apparition.

She blinked at the familiar surroundings when they landed in the Forest of Dean. Shooting him a cautious glance, Hermione crept forward to the cave she had visited only infrequently since moving in with a veela and a vampire.

A soft intake of breath escaped as she reached the entry upon seeing that he had transformed her once sparse and oddly furnished cave. Soft balls of light hung in the air, casting an ambient and welcoming feel across the space.

A table was set for two on one side, with a bag of their favourite takeout, and Hermione glanced at him when she caught sight of the bed on the other side. Malfoy was watching her carefully, his expression neutral.

"I thought we could just have a nice evening together," he breathed, as if he didn't dare speak any louder.

"It's perfect," she replied, stepping further inside. She considered for a moment, her head tilted. "Only –"

She waved her wand, and a map of the world materialized on one wall. Beside her, he released a nervous laugh.

"So we can plan for the future," he murmured, slipping his arms around her waist from behind. Hermione nodded, blinking back tears. It was something they usually avoided speaking of.

"Because we're going to Italy and France and Spain and –" she paused, thinking.

"Greece and Canada," he supplied, and Hermione could feel the grin as his face came to rest against the back of her neck.

"Right," she whispered. She walked to the map, tapping the countries with her wand, turning them green. Malfoy came up alongside her, observing, his fingertips tracing her spine.

"The Caribbean, for the cruise," he murmured, and Hermione tapped the collection of islands. "And Africa for the safari, and the arctic."

Hermione smiled and turned to him, pushing back the guilt that had been threatening her all day. As long as the riddles didn't choose a terribly inopportune time to return, this would be it. And when he learned how she had deceived him, how terribly she had broken his trust – she could only hope he would forgive her.

And if the riddles did return… she would be focused on distracting herself as well as possible, and all she could do was hope it would be enough.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, her gaze darting to the take-out.

"Yes," he replied, his grey eyes sparkling with hints of silver. A smirk crept to his lips but then he shook his head, as if he still couldn't quite believe it. "Tonight you're going to be my mate."

"Yes," she echoed, the word scarcely more than an exhalation.

She settled down at the table, distributing the takeout to quell her nerves, and while she tried not to think about the riddles returning, or about how Malfoy would react when he learned the truth, she didn't immediately realize her hand was shaking.

"Granger," he drawled, reaching over to still her fingers. Hermione glanced up, her gaze catching his. He offered her a heart-melting smile. "Don't be nervous."

She only said, "Okay," and passed him a dinner roll.

He took a bite from the bun, his tongue flicking out to catch a crumb, his gaze warm on her, and Hermione felt her heart racing.

They ate in silence for a while, Hermione picking at her plate, despite the food being delicious as always. She took a bite of her potatoes, then carefully set her fork down.

"I'm not nervous," she felt the need to say, rushing the words out. "I only want you to know, I love you. And I didn't just say it in Australia because things went poorly. But because I meant it."

"I love you, too," Malfoy murmured, his brows knitting with confusion.

"And," Hermione said with a quick breath, "I wish things had worked out all along. I wish you hadn't needed to deal with this mess, and that you hadn't had to _suffer_ for so long, Draco. I'm _so sorry_ that you've been in such pain."

"Hermione," he said, his nose wrinkling. He said her given name so infrequently that her heart stuttered, her eyes flying to meet his. "What you don't realize is that, despite all that, these have been the best months of my life. And I would do it all again, in a heartbeat."

The guilt was going to consume her alive.

"I don't deserve you," she choked, shaking her head. "We should have completed the bond ages ago."

"You were cursed," he reminded her, his voice soft. "It's all going to be okay, Granger. After tonight, none of it will matter."

"Right," she nodded, swallowing. She forced another bite of her dinner. "I just… for what it's worth, you know."

"I know," he breathed, clasping her hand in his. "And I'm not going to lie." He exhaled, offering her a roguish grin. "I'm relieved everything has worked out this way. I just… I know you can't really understand, Hermione, I just couldn't have subjected you to remaining cursed. I don't know that I ever would have forgiven myself. I would have always looked at you, and known I had failed you. You would have struggled for the rest of your life, and it would have been because of me."

"Draco," she choked, a lump blocking her throat. "You wouldn't have failed anything. Not if it was a decision I had accepted. And I don't see it that way. It's just more important to me that you survive."

"Well, we will have to simply accept that we didn't see it the same way," he said softly. "But we don't have to worry about that now."

He released her hand, returning to the last of his meal. Hermione pressed her lips together as she nodded, and forced back a few more bites of her dinner, trying to keep her mind focused.

He would forgive her one day.

He _had_ to.

He _had to survive_.

He was eyeing her strangely across the table as he vanished the meal from the table with a wave of his wand, chewing on his tongue. Finally he asked, "Do you want to play cards?"

Hermione would have laughed if she hadn't felt so sick.

"No Draco," she murmured, meeting his gaze. "This is all lovely, but we can play cards tomorrow. And the next day, and the next..."

He nodded, and she caught his gaze flickering behind her, to where she knew the bed was. She offered him a smile, trying to calm the tremble in her hands as she rose from her seat.

It wasn't that she had never had sex before, it was the situation, with _him_ , being _marked_. That this was _finally_ happening.

And Hermione wasn't even sure what she had expected, but she supposed for a veela who had been denied a natural, instinctive bond for months, who had been on the verge of death, _patience_ wasn't exactly the foremost consideration.

So when he approached, his grey eyes flashing with pools of silver, his lips met hers with desire, a sort of all-encompassing need she had only ever imagined. And she kissed him back in turn, knowing she needed this nearly as badly, that the yearning to bond, the magic insisting she become his mate, had been welling up within her for almost as long.

That it was instinctive for her, as well, though it had been suppressed so long. The freedom, the release of it now, felt like _everything_.

The pheromones flooded her mind, her bloodstream, pouring freely from her veela, and she dug her hands into his hair, nipping his lip between her teeth, and his tongue pushed through her lips, catching her own with a sort of wild abandon.

She groaned, her hands slipping the buttons of his shirt as she fumbled to release them, finally pushing the shirt from his shoulders.

He cursed against her mouth as her hands ran along his chest, his back, and he all but ripped her shirt over her head, breaking from her mouth only long enough for a quick, gasping breath as he threw the shirt across the cave. His lips met hers again, with almost crushing force, and Hermione couldn't think but for the feel of him as she maneuvered him to the bed.

The backs of his knees hit the mattress, and he dropped back, pulling her with him, and just as quickly rolled so she was beneath him.

He drew back, dropping a trail of kisses along her jaw, pulling her earlobe between his teeth as one of his hands deftly released the button on her jeans.

Hermione whimpered as she ground up into him, and he thrust against her, teasingly, as his mouth and tongue worked the sensitive skin below her ear. She grabbed his arse, releasing the clasp and tugging at his jeans as she moved to allow him to pull her own down her hips.

He hissed as he kicked the jeans from his ankles, pressing himself hard against her as he sucked at the skin of her neck, his skin hot and flushed against hers.

Hermione arched into him, lost to the feel, the push, the _drive_ to mate and be mated.

Malfoy left a trail of kisses down her collarbone to her chest, tracing the line of her cleavage with his tongue as her eyes flew open with a sudden terror.

Her hand tensed in his hair, and his eyes gazed up at her from near her covered breasts, fully silver, his cheeks flushed and lips parted.

Hermione bit down on her tongue, feeling a wave of panic crash over her as the first sign of an approaching riddle crept through the desirous haze that had become her mind.

His eyes still fixed on her, Hermione watched in mute, expressionless horror as his lips curved into a smirk, his fangs exposed as he dropped his face into her chest again.

Her mind spinning with desperation, Hermione clutched him as he dragged his fangs to her collarbone, his lips dropping to the flesh she knew he would bite into, where he would mark her as his mate. He inhaled deeply through his nose, as if he could taste her scent.

Her tongue felt thick, and she knew she had only moments before the riddle would force itself out.

She nearly whimpered at the injustice of it, at the horrible, rotten timing of the curse.

Because if she spat a riddle now, even so deep within the veela as he was, Hermione couldn't be sure whether Malfoy wouldn't pull away.

She squeezed her eyes shut, dropping her head back at his ministrations on her neck, feeling his fangs graze across that spot on her throat again, as his hands came up to the curve of her collarbone.

The riddle was on the tip of her tongue, about to ruin everything, and Hermione felt tears at the corners of her eyes.

"Draco," she gasped, arching into him, as her fear and trepidation collided with the pure, unadulterated _need_ for her mate.

She felt her claws begin to force their way from her fingertips with the effort of keeping the riddle at bay, and lifted her hands behind his back so she wouldn't slice through the sheets.

She would have to dart for her wand, so she could Apparate away if she needed, and she wished she still had that Portkey Nott had made –

Everything would be ruined, and he would refuse the bond, and he would _long_ for death, knowing she had tried to deceive him.

He growled against her neck and –

Hermione's lips forced themselves open, her tongue moving of its own accord –

"Wh –"

She gasped sharply, her head falling back against the pillow as his fangs sunk into the base of her neck, and Hermione moaned at the feel of pheromones coursing through her, pouring into her blood and her mind and her soul. She choked at the overpowering flood of emotions, and the pure _connection_ and the _love_ that she felt and –

His fangs were buried deep in her neck, his chest heaving, his eyelids fluttering over closed eyes.

Hermione's mind spun, her whole body alive, in a way she had never felt before.

Malfoy groaned, and Hermione felt the vibrations through her entire being – her claws slipped away, as if defeated by the strength of his magic, and her hands fell to catch in his hair once more as she basked in the _feel_ of the bond.

She realized she was whispering his name, a chorus of _DracoDracoDraco_ , a prayer, an exultation, and his lips closed around the wound, his tongue coating the punctures with his saliva in an act that must have wholly instinctive.

The pheromones continued to pour through the bite, and Hermione had no control over her senses as something far older than she took control of her body. All she knew was _him_ , and the way he was making her feel and –

She blinked her eyes open on a harsh exhale, meeting his gaze as he withdrew from her neck, and his tongue flicked out to wet his lips as he stared down at her, a slow grin creeping across his face.

"Granger," he gasped, kissing her, and she could taste some strange combination of magic and blood and pheromones on his tongue as he kissed her with a desperation she returned from somewhere deep in her soul.

 _Mate._

With a flick, he released the clasp of her bra, his tongue tracing a path down her chest as he threw the material to the ground. Hermione arched into him again, the pheromones and the connection between them swimming through her mind, increasing her pure awareness of him.

She grasped the waist of his shorts, pushing them from his hips as his fingers slid beneath the waistband of her knickers, tugging them down, and then she lay fully nude before him, staring up at him, and she felt nothing but _him_ as his gaze swept her body.

He slipped one finger, and then a second, inside her, and Hermione's eyes fell shut as he buried his face in her neck, a murmured, "I love you so much."

She returned the sentiment on a breath, arching into him, grasping him in her hand as he plunged his fingers into her, groaning into her collarbone. His tongue pressed against the mark on her neck, as if to remind himself it was real, and a jolt of pure energy shot through her, releasing a cry from her throat.

She felt the smirk against her skin as he did it again.

"Draco," she cried, as his fingers withdrew, only to be replaced with the hard length of him.

He groaned her name as he sunk into her, allowing her to adjust for a moment before he started moving. Hermione's eyes fell shut again, the feel of him crashing over her like an unrelenting tide, and she was drowning in him and she had never experienced anything like it.

Her hands clutched at the muscles of his back, her feet tangling around his hips as he pushed into her, and a string of curses and cries came from her throat at the feel of the bond, her head falling back into the pillow as his tongue grazed the mark at the base of her throat again.

She dragged his mouth to hers again, meeting his lips with a passion and a desire she hadn't been aware she possessed as he built her into a rhythm.

And with each thrust, each plunge into her, she felt herself spiral towards that inexplicable, tumultuous peak, her heart chasing a frantic cadence as she moved against him, kissing him, her hands tracing the bones of his spine.

He choked her name, his face buried in her neck again, as he moved harder and faster and Hermione nearly couldn't stand it any longer –

His tongue stroked against the mark, and her vision exploded with a cry, spinning into darkness as the feel of him and them and the _bond_ raced through every fibre of her being.

With a groan he thrust into her for the last time, his temple slick with sweat as it stilled against her cheek. He breathed her name as a prayer, and when his eyes blinked open, they shone as he gazed at her.

His chest heaved while he simply stared, and finally he withdrew, settling himself beside her.

Hermione pressed herself against him, drawing the sheet over them both as her feet tangled with his. He caught her face with a hand, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

"My mate," he breathed, blinking at her. "I'm yours."

"And I'm yours," she murmured, a sleepy smile drifting across her face as she burrowed into him.

The magic of the marking had stopped the riddle at the tip of her tongue, and she could only be grateful. Tomorrow, she would deal with the repercussions.

The lights dimmed with a wave of his hand.

Tonight, there was only this.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note _:_** Thanks so much for all the wonderful feedback on the last chapter. I'm so glad you guys liked the bonding!  
I like to keep you lovely readers updated, so as of now it looks like this story is going to wind up around 24 chapters. I'll be posting every 5 days throughout August, because I'll have a new piece coming out at the start of September (9 chapters). I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

All the kermit gifs at Hystaracal, just because I can.

Alpha love as always to Kyonomiko!

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 **October 13, 2002**

Hermione stirred into awareness to the sight of a pair of grey eyes staring at her in the dark.

Her skin tingled, her body wrecked with fatigue, and her magic roiled within her like a capping sea. She smiled as a recollection of the events of the previous night came back to her.

"Good morning," she whispered, into the space between them, "mate."

"Mate," Malfoy repeated, his lips curved into a private smirk.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, shifting closer to him beneath the blankets. Her fingers trailed along the bare skin of his side.

"I feel great," he breathed, catching her lips with his in a brief kiss. Then he drew back, staring at her. "Better than ever."

"Good," she responded, feeling something within her soul relax. He would be okay, and everything else would work out in time.

He drew her closer still, and Hermione could feel the hard evidence of his awareness of her. With a smile, she grabbed him by the neck and rolled onto her back, bringing him with her. His answering grin was positively wicked as he pressed a searing kiss to her lips.

* * *

"Don't tell me you waited up."

Draco fixed Theo with a curious glance as he Apparated home with Granger, and saw Theo sitting on the couch in the sitting room, a pile of empty blood bags on one side of him, and a stack of parchment on the end table.

"I didn't _wait_ ," Theo scoffed, his lip curling, "I'm not a fucking creep. I just haven't gone to bed yet."

"Of course," Draco said, waving a hand, "semantics."

Theo was staring closely, his bloodshot hazel eyes narrowed, and there must have been something in Draco's posture, or the way Granger was glowing – she was more beautiful than Draco had ever seen her – that made Theo relax.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, mate," Theo said, his brows knitted together. He vanished the pile of empty bags and jumped to the armchair. "And Granger. Thank fucking Merlin."

Draco clicked his tongue and took over the couch, dragging Granger down beside him. "Thanks."

"See," Theo said, with a cocky tilt to his head. "All is well, no?"

"All is well," Draco said with a smile.

He felt elated. Exuberant. _Alive_. Draco had never felt so good in his whole damn life, and he still couldn't believe how everything had played out.

Granger's hand entwined easily with his, their fingers melding as if her hand was the missing piece of his. His nose wrinkled as he stared at her, feeling a wave of emotion crash over him.

He had spent most of the night awake, watching her sleep, determined not to miss anything. He knew it was crazy but he didn't care. The veela within him was basking like he had never seen before, which was a welcome change from the creature that had been intent on dragging him into an early grave only twenty-four hours earlier.

"Good," Theo said with an exaggerated huff of an exhale. He clapped his hands on this thighs and rose from his seat. "I need a fucking nap."

Draco turned to Granger once Theo was gone, and she gave him a tight-lipped smile. She had been unusually quiet since she had woken up, but the past while had been turbulent for all of them.

There was a strange swelling in his chest just from looking at her, and Draco knew he would never get over how she had saved him. How she hadn't been judgemental or cruel, or cast him out without a second thought, despite their chaotic past. How she had _fought_ for him.

Her brow furrowed and Draco realized he was still staring. He simply wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer. She let out a breath and melted into his chest.

It was all Draco wanted, or would ever want – his mate by his side. A smile slipped onto his face.

* * *

Hermione slipped to her room after the three of them had eaten a celebratory dinner of sandwiches and firewhisky – Nott's idea.

Idly, she wondered whether Malfoy would want her to move into his room. It wouldn't be a big deal – in fact, after hoping and searching for answers for so long, it would be nice.

She wished she could celebrate in the same way, be carefree and happy that this had finally – _finally_ – worked out. She was thrilled they had completed the bond and ecstatic to see Draco happy after struggling for so long.

But eventually the riddles would come back, and he would realize they had lied and deceived him, against his wishes. That not only her and Nott, but Bill, and his own mother had been in on it.

She could still feel the magic of the bond pumping through her veins, but she suspected that would dissipate and the riddles would return. And that _wasn't_ how she wanted him to find out.

She knew what Nott would say – he was alive, and to stop worrying, and it would all work out.

But she _knew_ how hurt he would feel if she didn't tell him the truth. If he had to learn about it from somewhere else, like if she were to suddenly spit a riddle at him.

There was a soft knock at her door and Hermione glanced up, forcing a smile as Malfoy eased the door open. He leaned against the door frame, fixing her with a curious grey stare.

"Are you alright?" he asked, one hand slipping into a pocket, and Hermione knew it to be a tell of his nerves. "I know this has been… a lot to take in."

"I'm good," Hermione replied, her voice coming out softer than she intended. "I'm so happy, Draco."

"Me too," he said with a slow, crooked grin.

"I might just slip out for a few minutes," she said, "you know, get some fresh air. I think there's a part of me that misses the lion." She offered him a sort of bashful smile.

"I can imagine," he said with a tight smile in return. "Let me know if you need anything."

He turned and left the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

Hermione Apparated from her room into the alley outside the building, unable to face him again with the hot pit of shame that had welled up in her chest. She had to tell him or she wouldn't even be able to look him in the eye.

She walked down the street, aimless, meandering, the cool night breeze whipping through her thin jumper.

She jumped, startled, as an owl swept over her on the quiet street, dropping a small scroll into her hair. She recognized the tight, tidy script as Narcissa's, and tucked the missive into her pocket, unwilling to face the situation until she had worked out a plan.

She would have to tell Draco before the riddles returned, but how best to approach the situation would require some careful deliberation. She should have brought a notepad, so she might have been able to make a list of pros and cons.

Frustrated, she finally Apparated from another dark alley to her cave, which only brought back the memories of the night before. Frowning, she approached the map of the world – the closest they had dared come to planning a future together – and ran her fingers across the green highlighted countries.

He _had_ to forgive her.

Carefully, she removed the map and rolled it up, shrinking it and pocketing it with the letter from Narcissa.

Her eyes landed on the table, and then the bed, the layers of eclectic blankets still laid across the floor and she wanted to scream or cry or rip her hair out.

She had wanted him to survive, above all else. But how could he forgive being blatantly lied to and misled? He was so happy, and he would be _so hurt_.

She needed to go for a run, and clear her head, and maybe something would come to her. It had to.

She walked out of the cave, her head spinning and eyes prickling with the hot sting of tears. She needed to escape into the simpler psyche of her lion, just for now.

She leapt into the forest, mentally initiating the transformation mid-air.

She collapsed to the earth in a heap, rolling in the bramble on the forest floor.

Frowning, she rose to her feet and cracked her neck, dusting herself off. That had been odd – she must have been so distracted she hadn't fully completed the transformation.

She attempted the shift again – nothing. She lifted a hand, signalling the claws.

She loosed an exaggerated sigh. Not only had the riddles vanished, but she couldn't even transform either. The curse was certainly a mess some days. Both had occurred before, but never together.

Suddenly she froze, staring at the short nails on her right hand, having been willing them to change with the mental power of a focused stare.

No riddles – _no lion_. Her breathing sped up, even as her heart began to race. It was the exact thing she had convinced Draco of in order for him to believe she was rid of the curse. It was a _sick_ joke, and she swore under her breath.

Another ten minutes later, and not having seen one trace of the lion emerge, Hermione collapsed to the ground in defeat, sagging back against a tree.

She wouldn't dare to believe anything other than the fact that the transformation was currently inoperative.

She jumped, startled, at a loud clap of thunder. A few minutes later, the skies opened up and Hermione found herself soaked to the bone, the night chill seeping through her clothes.

Not for the first time, Hermione found herself cursing the entire cursed curse, and Apparated out of the forest.

She found herself pounding on the door of Shell Cottage, water dripping from her eyelashes as she blinked.

"Hermione," Fleur exclaimed, surprised. Bill came up behind her, his brow furrowed. "Is everything okay?"

"No, I don't know," Hermione choked out, shaking her head. She met Bill's concerned gaze. "I need your help."

* * *

Hermione sat in her cave, numb from the cold and semi-catatonic, half an hour later.

She hardly glanced up when Draco stepped into the cave, and merely settled into his warmth when he dropped to the floor beside her, wrapping her with one of the many blankets that covered the layer of grasses below and slung an arm around her.

"The lion's gone," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. "I could feel your emotional distress."

"The lion's gone," Hermione repeated, the words sounding awkward and vague as they tumbled from her tongue. "The curse is _gone_."

"I know," he said, shaking his head. "I can still hardly believe it."

"The curse is gone, Draco," she repeated, blinking. "I don't know what happened to it."

"It'll take some time to sink in," he said, giving her a strange look. "Granger, I realize it's been a whirlwind, but we knew this two days ago."

"Yes," she said, her voice thick as she nodded. "Yes, we did."

How could it have possibly lifted, when she had shifted to check the curse the morning before. She had been cursed – and according to every one of Bill's tests – none of them had been able to believe it.

A part of her still suspected the Witch Doctor was playing games, but as Bill had said when they had been deceiving Draco, curse-breaking magic was incredibly difficult to fool.

At some point, between the previous morning and now, something had happened to disturb the fabric of the curse.

Her gaze flickered to Draco, sitting absently on the hard ground with her. Where he had spent countless hours with her before, when she had lived here as her lion.

It could mean she didn't have to tell him about the whole blasted plot. She wasn't cursed – he wouldn't blame himself now if he learned the truth.

It _had_ to have been related to the bonding – but how?

"Hermione," he said, his tone amused but uncertain. "I can practically hear you thinking."

She turned to him, nuzzling into his chest, her heart rate escalating with the possibilities. "Let's go home."

A lazy grin slipped to his features as he tugged her to her feet, and Apparated them both to the flat.

 _ **October 14, 2002**_

Draco walked into the sitting room shortly behind Granger, watching as she exchanged an expectant glance with Theo. Frowning, Draco observed her bizarre behaviour – which seemed to have become normal since they had completed the bond.

With the exception of her enthusiasm the night before.

Granger snapped wide eyes to him as he entered the room and she dropped into the couch. Theo raised a brow at the entire situation and bit into a blood bag.

"Hermione," Draco said, breaking the tense silence, "I'm putting your jeans in the laundry and I emptied your pockets." He tossed her the shrunken and rolled map she must have taken off the wall in the cave. "And your letter from –"

Draco frowned, instantly recognizing his mother's tight script.

"Thanks," she breathed, jumping up to grab the short letter. "Just some arrangements, you know."

Draco fixed her with a stare. "Granger, why was my mother owling about your curse? When did you tell her about it?" It was the one word he had seen on the short letter – _curse_.

His eyes narrowed as Granger and Theo exchanged another hesitant glance across the room. His shoulders tensed, sensing something was wrong.

"Will someone tell me what it is that I don't know?" Draco asked, his voice low.

Theo's brows flew into his hair, and Granger worried her lip.

Draco narrowed his eyes, feeling his veela senses flaring to life, expecting the worst. It wasn't possible that Granger and _Theo_ – but then how was his mother involved?

"The _truth_ ," Draco hissed, his heart racing instinctively. The veela had been particularly volatile given the bond was so fresh, and Draco didn't like the thought that something might be negatively affecting his mate.

"Okay," Granger said, chewing her tongue, "we told your mother. We were frightened, you were sleeping all the time, and you looked _terribly_ ill, Draco –"

Nott was nodding along, his expression a little too innocent.

"Right," Draco drawled, trying to keep his temper in check, "and what else did the two of you decide to keep from me? What did my mother have to say about it?"

He didn't mean to snap, but if he knew his mother – and he did – she wouldn't have simply taken the news lying down. It made him nervous.

Hell, it made him beyond nervous. A wild sort of panic was gripping his heart as he stared between the two of them.

"What?" he asked again, his voice coming out hoarse. His hands were flailing about like a maniac. "Please tell me she didn't try to… I don't know, cook up some sort of a scheme or –"

His breathing was heavy, his heart anxious. "Granger, are you _alright_?"

"Narcissa did not cook up any schemes," Theo said, his expression stoic.

Draco narrowed his eyes at his oldest friend, whom he knew better than anyone. "Then who cooked up the fucking scheme, Theodore?"

Granger was staring at him with wide eyes, her brows knitted.

Draco clutched at his chest, his breaths coming in hard and fast. What had they done. No – _no_.

"Granger," he ground through his teeth, his voice desperate. "What did you do?"

Her eyes flew back to land on Theo's, her hands clutching the fabric of the couch with white knuckles.

"Okay, look," Theo said, waving a hand that might have been placating had Draco not been approaching a full-scale panic. "Obviously we didn't want to, but it was the only way to get you to complete the bond and Granger was _okay_ with it and –"

Draco didn't hear the rest of Theo's sentence as his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach, his eyes coming to rest on Granger, fidgeting with the couch.

"You lied to me," he choked, his face twisting. "You – you what, _convinced_ me the curse was broken, so –" He couldn't finish the sentence, running a hand through his hair. "But Bill – he –"

His heart was going to break and explode simultaneously. His head was spinning, he needed to sit down –

Of course, if his mother had been involved, they would have covered all the angles. Bill would have been in on it too.

"I don't believe this," he gasped, unable to fully look at Granger, at her pleading eyes. "How could you both –" But his desperation grew and he spun to face her again, pointing. "You _knew_ how important it was to me that you broke your curse! I _told_ you, Granger –"

He choked, swiping angrily at the moisture in his eyes.

 _She was still cursed_.

"It's gone now, Draco," Granger said, her voice pleading. "I don't know how, but something truly broke it, that's where I was yesterday –"

" _What_?" Theo snapped, jumping to his feet. "Granger, you didn't –"

"Enough!" Draco exclaimed, running a hand through again through his disheveled hair.

They both fell silent, looking contrite. Draco didn't know if he could look at either of them and stared away.

"Let me get this straight," he said, making his best attempt at calmness, speaking into the floor. "I told you I didn't want to complete the bond while Granger was cursed. The two of you _disregarded_ my wishes, and instead went _behind my back_ with my fucking _mother_ to plot the best way to convince me to complete the bond _anyway_ , though it would go against everything I believed to do so. Did I miss anything?"

"You missed the part where the curse is actually lifted," Granger whispered. Draco's eyes flickered briefly to land on hers.

His voice was hoarse as he whispered, "And how am I supposed to believe you this time? I thought –" He cut himself off, shaking his head. "I thought you were on my side, Granger."

She rose to her feet as well, fixing him with a sharp stare. She stalked towards him, stabbing out with a finger.

"I'm on the side where you _live_ , Draco Malfoy." Draco pressed his lips together and stared at her finger. "And I was willing, as I _told you_ , to live with the curse if it meant you would survive. You didn't need to _sacrifice_ yourself over some pointless –"

"It wasn't pointless!" he hissed. "It was for _you_ , Granger, and you aren't a veela so I never expected you to fucking understand, but I refused _for you_." His anger sizzled and drifted into desolation once more, his heart clenching and cold at the thought that she had deliberately misled him.

Draco rolled his hands into fists, heat emanating from his hands, and he was surprised he hadn't lit anything on fire yet. The air in the room hung, tense and unforgiving.

Theo sidled closer, fixing his hood. "So the curse is seriously lifted, Granger?" His brows flickered as he let out a low whistle. "That's pretty crazy, isn't it? Problem solved?"

"Problem _not_ solved," Draco choked. "Because I don't even know – how do I believe any of this now?"

"We'll go see Bill again," Granger said quickly. "He has the results from yesterday."

"And _Bill_ fucking lied to me as well," Draco said, throwing his hands up in the air.

"It's real, Draco," Granger whispered, her eyes imploring as he glanced at her. "I know you're mad at me, and I feel terrible, _believe me_ – but it truly is broken. Maybe the mating, or something."

"I wonder if accepting the mating bond, despite being cursed, was a show of humility?" Theo said, tilting his head in thought.

Draco turned to Theo with an exasperated huff.

Granger said, so softly Draco nearly had to strain to hear her, "I've been trying to think of what it might have been, and I don't know that it could have been that simple."

Draco turned back to her, his head shaking slowly. "We're going back to Bill's, and I'm going to use legilimency on him this time. Because I don't know how to believe any of you. To think, I bloody _mated_ you while you were cursed –"

"Draco," Granger breathed, taking a step towards him.

"Granger," he returned, grimacing. "I don't know how to unpack this… you're everything to me, but right now… I don't even know what to say." He ran a hand down his face, frowning. "Let me know when you've heard back from Bill."

He turned, unable to face either of them anymore, not while his heart was shattering into a million pieces. Burying his hands in his hair, he returned to his room, closing the door softly behind him.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note _:_** Hello! Thanks for the wonderful reviews, and to everyone who continues to read, favourite and follow :) I know I said 5 days, but then I finished writing this story so it'll be more like 3-4 days between chapters. And for anyone who is following my other current WIP, Dust, the first part will likely finish posting in August as well.

Alpha love as always to Kyonomiko!

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 **October 15, 2002**

Hermione approached the couch where Draco sat, frowning. She took a cautious seat beside him, though his eyes were vague and distant. His gaze flickered briefly to her, and he grimaced, but wrapped an arm around her even so, tugging her against him.

They had been back to visit Bill and Fleur the night before, and whatever Draco had seen in Bill's mind seemed to have satisfied him that the curse was truly lifted.

Hermione could sense he was warring with the idea that they had lied to him and coerced him into accepting the bond – while still being relieved it was all truly over. She wondered if the Witch Doctor could receive owl post.

While Nott was insistent she had broken the curse by simply accepting the bond, Hermione wasn't sure it could have been that easy.

Draco hadn't weighed in on the situation – in fact, he had barely spoken.

She reached an arm around his chest, curling into him. She breathed, "I am sorry, you know?"

"I know you are," he said shortly. His gaze swept to hers again. "And I wish I could understand. Just like you can't understand how _fucking terrified_ I was at the thought that I had trapped you in that curse."

He chewed his tongue for a moment before continuing. "I suppose I should apologize for making you feel like you couldn't come to me. But – I still would have disagreed, every time, and we would have remained at a standstill."

"Do you think," she hesitated, swallowing. "You'll ever forgive me?"

"I love you, Granger," he said, staring absently at a spot on the ceiling. "I'm not mad, I'm just…" He shook his head, pressing his lips together.

"You're hurt," she finished for him. He responded with a slow nod, looking at her again. "I'm so sorry I've hurt you, Draco. But the thought of _watching you die_ … can't you see how that was terrifying for us as well?"

"I've been trying to see it from your side," he said, his tone bitter. "And I do get it. Unfortunately, my veela instincts override everything else, and all I can think of is the fact that you _sacrificed_ yourself when it's _my_ job to protect _you_."

"We protect each other," Hermione said, snuggling further into his chest. His grip on her tightened a little. She glanced up at him. "I know it's inopportune, but – the curse is _gone_ , Draco."

"That's the other thing I can't understand," he said, shaking his head. "I know Theo thinks it was just from the bonding, and that it was an act of humility, but… from what I saw of the Witch Doctor, it had to have been more than that. And besides that, he said the only option in which we both made it out of the situation was vague and far-off. If it was as simple as completing the bond, I feel like that wouldn't have been the case."

"I don't know," Hermione whispered, not understanding the situation herself.

"Unless," Draco continued, gesturing absently with his free hand, "it was something he couldn't foresee either of us doing. And I only mated you which was instinctive, and an obvious decision at the moment. So _you_ must have done something unexpected."

Hermione looked up as Nott cleared his throat and settled into the armchair.

"If I might contribute," he said, eyes hidden beneath his hood, "having been eavesdropping until this point, I would mention the fact that Granger, while committed to pursuing the last, unknown option, relinquished _that_ idea, placed her faith in Narcissa and I, and went along with the plan, not having the slightest clue whether any of it would work."

Hermione stared hard at Nott for a moment. Beside her, Draco's brow furrowed.

His voice was hoarse as he said, "That would have been unexpected."

"I was surprised," Nott shrugged. "And so was Narcissa. Who, by the way, keeps owling me since you've both been ignoring her owls."

"So," Draco said, ignoring the last part, his eyes darting rapidly about. "Even though Hermione didn't want to, she put her own plans aside, and accepted help in figuring out a solution."

"Because as it turned out," Nott carried on with a bit of a smile, "she doesn't have all the answers after all."

The three of them fell silent on a tense breath, and Hermione shifted awkwardly against Draco.

"I wonder if that was it," he breathed. "So, in fact, the _only_ way to actually break the curse was to accept the bond while still cursed, not because she put herself second, but because she had relinquished control of the situation."

Nott snickered and rose from his seat. "Sounds like humility to me."

"I'd been wondering _why_ the riddles chose that point in time to falter again," Hermione said, chewing her lip. "I wonder if the Witch Doctor _did_ end up seeing something after we left his hut."

"And that was all he could do to push you in the right direction," Draco murmured.

It didn't make sense, but then, neither did any of it. She refrained from mentioning that she had been on the verge of asking a riddle when Draco had marked her.

A flush crept to Hermione's cheeks as she glanced between them.

Draco was still shaking his head when he said, "I'll still have an earful for my mother. But I'll owl her. You're off the hook, Theo."

"Good," Nott exclaimed with an exaggerated exhale. "Because in that case, I really came out here to let you both know I'm headed to Wales."

"It's about time," Hermione said, smiling. "Send Sally-Anne my regards."

"She might be around," Nott said, scratching the back of his neck. "You know, every so often."

"It's fine, Theo," Draco said, amused. "So long as she doesn't attack my mate in the middle of the night – who, might I add, can no longer turn into a lion to defend herself – Sally-Anne is welcome here anytime."

With a sharp nod, Nott left the flat.

Draco turned baleful eyes to Hermione. "I suppose we ought to see my mother. I'll owl her." His fingers played over the curve of her shoulder. "For the record, I'm still upset you all went behind my back, but I suppose I can see that it was for the best."

"I can deal with that," Hermione murmured into his chest. "But I don't regret convincing you to save yourself. Because if you hadn't, and I'd lost you…" she trailed off and Draco tightened his grip on her.

Draco sighed. "I know that feeling."

He took a sheet of parchment from Nott's stack and scrawled a quick missive with his free hand, offering it to his owl.

Then Draco turned back to Hermione, tugging her onto his lap to face him. Arranging a few stray curls, he said, "You ought to know my mother will want us to get married now. Which, compared to a mating bond, seems insignificant, really."

"She mentioned as much when we met her for dinner," Hermione said absently, sliding her hands into his silky hair.

"It will be as large or as small as _you_ want, and don't let my mother convince you otherwise." He met her gaze, his brows high. "I couldn't care less about a wedding since you've already agreed to be my mate."

"Just small, I think," Hermione murmured, resting her head on his chest. "I've really only got a few friends anyway, and obviously the rest of my family are Muggles." She sighed, relaxing under the feel of his hands on her back. "I wish my parents could be there, Draco."

"I know," he breathed. "And now that this is all over, we can see about finding any other option that might help them."

"Yes," Hermione said absently. "Although I can't help but feel as though all the options have been exhausted. Even professional healers in Australia _and_ England have come up with nothing. The Witch Doctor literally _was_ my last resort."

"It doesn't hurt to take another look, even so," Draco said. But his tone didn't sound entirely optimistic either.

"Maybe. Although we can't hold off a wedding on nothing but a vague hope that something might happen one day." She released a long breath into his chest and his hands on her back pulled her closer.

Draco's owl returned and he sighed as he read the letter. "Mother would like to meet with us now."

"Okay," Hermione said, nodding even as she made no move to stand from her position in his lap.

Draco tugged her chin up, and he was frowning. "We can keep looking. You'd be surprised what throwing a large sum of money at healers can do to their initiative."

Hermione giggled despite the melancholy that had taken her at the thought that, not only were her parents having a baby she would likely never meet, they would also miss her wedding.

"I appreciate that, but you certainly don't need to," she said softly, standing and tugging him up with her. "Let's go see your mother."

Draco grimaced.

* * *

Narcissa seemed appropriately chastened as Draco gave her a stern talking to with regards to all the reasons why she shouldn't have meddled in his life and his bonding with his mate.

But even so, Draco had a hard time looking at Hermione, who had ultimately broken her curse through said meddling, and so after he was done, he looked his mother in the eye and thanked her for caring enough to go against his wishes.

Because while things could have turned out a lot differently, he realized that all three of them had been acting for the same reason, and that reason had come from their hearts, in a place that cared enough about him to want to save his life.

That in itself was humbling, especially since Draco had never particularly considered himself the type of person that other people _loved_.

So at that point, he couldn't really look at his mother, either.

Hermione had sat quietly at his side through his tirade, her fingers playing across the back of his hand. He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze.

Once he had finished and sat back in his seat, Narcissa had taken a sip of her tea and raised one brow.

"You're through?" she asked. At Draco's confirming nod, she smiled. "Very well. Your concerns are understood and acknowledged. I am very happy for you both that you have completed the bond. Hermione, you're absolutely glowing."

"Thank you, Narcissa," Hermione said, beaming.

"And Draco," Narcissa continued, "I am thrilled to see you in good health once more, and I believe you have chosen a most wonderful mate. But I do not regret my actions."

Draco's brows flickered. He had expected as much.

"And now, there is the delightful matter of planning a wedding," Narcissa said, a demure smile on her lips.

"A _small_ wedding," Draco said, his gaze sweeping to Hermione beside him. "Small, as in close friends and immediate family. Not small as in, an intimate gathering of half the wizarding world and all of high society."

Narcisa looked taken aback. "But my son, heir to the Malfoy estate, is to be wed. It is significant, Draco!"

"Far less significant than being mated," Draco said, nudging Hermione in the shoulder, and she gave him a wry smile. "In fact, Hermione will take care of the guest list."

Narcissa looked less than thrilled, but she simply pursed her lips. "What may I be in charge of?"

"Catering," Draco said with a nod. "A venue, a photographer."

"Flowers," Hermione contributed, and Narcissa's face lit up.

"I have the most lovely nasturtiums, dear," she said, gazing at Hermione with a sort of fondness, given she had recalled Narcissa's love of gardening. "And the hydrangeas are award-winning."

"Whatever you think is best," Hermione assured her. Narcissa positively beamed.

"What colours?" Narcissa asked, conjuring a notebook out of nowhere and jotting down a list.

Draco glanced at Hermione as she made a face at him. Averting her gaze, she murmured, "I like green. Grass green, or forest green."

"Of course you do," Draco said with a smile. He turned to his mother. "And purple. Like the dress Hermione wore to your house."

Narcissa nodded, then raised an expectant brow in Hermione's direction. "And speaking of dresses?"

Beside him, Hermione paled, as if she had forgotten the most symbolic of bridal traditions. He took her hand beneath the table, and her fingers instantly entwined with his.

"Given my mother is in Australia, I suppose I'll venture to Madam Malkin's and pick out something appropriate," she said quietly.

Narcissa tutted. "Twilfitt and Tattings will do better," she said, her lips pursed again.

"Okay, I'll go there instead," Hermione said, and Draco could see the strain in her eyes as she smiled at Narcissa. Her gaze flickered briefly to Draco. "Unless, of course, Narcissa, you would care to go with me."

Narcissa blinked several times before offering Hermione a watery smile. "I would be honoured, my dear."

Draco pressed his lips together, giving Hermione a sidelong glance. He didn't know whether she realized how happy she had just made his mother, who had always wanted a daughter of her own.

"Lovey," Hermione said, her tone soft. "That settles it then."

And for the next hour Draco sat, largely silent, while Narcissa asked a barrage of questions and Hermione answered them with proficience. It was decided that Theo would be the best man, while Hermione selected Luna to be her maid of honour, given she had so few female friends.

Hermione assured Narcissa several times that the back gardens at Andromeda's house would be absolutely perfect, and Narcissa insisted she would bring in the finest decorators.

The best part, in Draco's opinion, was the look on his mother's face when Hermione requested whether it would be doable within a month.

Narcissa had gaped, brow furrowed, and blinked several times before choking out a ragged, "Of course, dear."

Draco had pressed a kiss to Hermione's temple.

Then they had said goodbye and Apparated home, and Draco, worn out from talking about wedding details for so long, collapsed into the couch, exhausted. Hermione settled into the seat beside him.

"Can you believe we're going to get married?" she asked with a sidelong glance.

"I suppose not much of this surprises me anymore," he said, smirking. "Cold feet already?"

"Absolutely not," she said with a wide grin, and Draco's heart jumped. "Though I suppose I ought to owl Luna and ask whether she actually _wants_ to be my maid of honour."

"Luna can wait," Draco said, raising a brow with a crooked smile. "We have the flat to ourselves, you know."

As she opened her mouth to respond Draco ducked in, catching her lips with his, pushing her down onto the couch, and she smiled against his mouth as she kissed him back, tugging him down on top of her.

Almost instantly, her hands began slipping loose the buttons on his shirt and Draco leaned in, trailing a line of kisses down her jaw to the mark on her neck, as had become habit to remind himself that this wasn't all a dream.

She gasped a breath, her eyes rolling back, arching into him, and Draco made quick work of her jumper, tossing it to the floor, and slipped her top over her head.

Hermione pushed his shirt from his shoulders, and Draco broke from the kiss only long enough to oblige her before moving to her jeans, and tugging the tight denim from her skin.

He dropped a trail of kisses along her stomach and abdomen, toeing off his jeans and socks as he stared down at her.

Being with Hermione was more than Draco could have even dreamed of. Sometimes, he thought his heart literally stuttered at the sight of her, spread before him.

He would never grow tired of it.

He kissed her again, his hand reaching behind her back to release the clasp of her bra, but he froze at a tap on the window.

His eyes flew open and met hers. He wrinkled his nose as he muttered, "Hold that thought."

She nodded, biting down on her lower lip, and Draco halted as he stood. She looked so delectable laying there, her cheeks flushed and hair wild, clad in only her bra and knickers.

Draco had to tear himself away to open the window, and an unfamiliar owl flew in, dropping a scroll into his hands.

"It's for you," he murmured, handing Hermione the small roll of parchment.

She sat up against the armrest, her brow furrowing as her eyes flew back and forth across the lines of text. She released a sharp intake of breath and Draco sat beside her, frowning.

Her hand trembled slightly as she handed the missive to Draco and he took it with some trepidation.

"It's from Healer Carlson," she breathed.

Draco froze for a moment before he read the short letter.

 _Miss Granger_

 _I hope you are well. I am writing to you to inform you of a sudden, unexpected change in your parents' conditions. I would like to speak to you in person about this matter, so if you could, please arrange a floo call at your convenience. Thank you._

 _Healer Carlson_

Draco's eyes were wide as he handed the letter back to her, and watched as she scanned it again.

"What do you think it could mean?" she asked, her voice quiet.

"I've no idea," Draco admitted, carding a hand through his hair.

"Maybe," she gasped, hands covering her mouth, "they've devolved, somehow – maybe they are sick! Maybe there's a problem with my mother, and the baby, and –"

"Hermione," Draco muttered, his brows knitting together.

"Do you suppose the spell backfired, some sort of delayed reaction, and –"

"Hermione," Draco repeated, louder. "We won't know until we talk to Healer Carlson, alright? There's no sense panicking over something that _might_ be good news."

She froze, her eyes wide as she stared at him. "How could it be good news?"

"I'm just saying," he held up his hands, "please don't think too much into it until we've spoken to the healer, alright?"

"Okay," she said, murmuring to herself as she scrounged for a sheet of parchment and a quill and her hands were shaking again as Draco caught them between his. "I'll owl the healer and arrange a time for a floo call, and then we'll wait."

"Different idea," Draco said, meeting her anxious gaze, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of her hands. She blinked at him, her lips parted. "Have you still got that Portkey?"

"Yes," she said, her eyes wide.

"Then get dressed. We're going back to Australia."


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note _:_** Thank you to everyone for your lovely comments! We are approaching the final few chapters here, and I'm so happy to have had so many of you stick with me through this story. Hope you enjoy!

Alpha love as always to Kyonomiko!

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 **October 16, 2002**

"Miss Granger," Healer Carlson said, looking up in surprise from a stack of paperwork on his desk, as she and Draco let themselves in through the open door of his office. "And Mr Malfoy. What a surprise. I was expecting to hear back from you via owl."

"Right, well," Hermione murmured, fidgeting with her hands. "Suppose we were interested in hearing whatever you had to say in person."

"Of course," Carlson clipped, gesturing to the chairs on the other side of his desk. "Please, take a seat."

Hermione slid into one of the chairs, glancing at Draco, who raised his brows as he took the other seat.

Carlson was staring at her, his brow furrowed slightly. His gaze flickered between them.

"You look different," he said, a tilt to his head. "Your magical aura, as well, seems altered."

"We've mated," Draco said shortly, his expression stern as he slouched a little in his seat. "And Hermione is also now free of her curse."

"Oh!" Carlson exclaimed, his face lighting up with what Hermione could only assume was academic curiosity, rather than genuine concern. "How fascinating. And how wonderful that you are free of your curse."

"Right," Draco drawled, "you had news about Hermione's parents?"

"Yes," Carlson said, settling his hands on his lap and leaning forward in his seat. He had obviously realized it wasn't the time to dig into veela mating. "It's a good thing you're already sitting down."

Hermione glanced at Draco again, but his stoic expression was fixed on the healer.

"When my team originally worked with Mr and Mrs Granger, a number of years ago, we saw no way around the memory charm Hermione had cast, as you know," Carlson prefaced, with a nod to Hermione, who was nervously chewing her lip. "But whenever we explore a person's brain in that way, we leave a backdoor in their mind – a sort of calling card – in case something ever changes. It simply instructs the patient in how they might locate me. Particularly, in this specific case, given your parents are Muggles and cannot see the hospital."

Beside her Draco huffed a sharp exhale but didn't express the impatience she was certain he was feeling.

"A day and a half ago," Carlson continued, pausing as he glanced between them. "Your parents showed up here, at the hospital."

"What," Hermione breathed, gripping the arms of her chair, her mouth suddenly dry, even as her racing heart leapt into her throat.

"They showed up?" Draco asked, blinking. "You mean, via this calling card."

"That seems to be the case," Carlson said, rubbing a hand down his face. "To be honest with you both, it looked as if nothing was ever going to change with Hermione's parents. Which is why this has come as such a shock."

"So wait, what?" Hermione repeated, struggling to wrap her head around what the healer was saying. "So they remembered having met you – or?"

"They came here, Miss Granger," Carlson said, leaning forward on his desk, "looking for you."

A breath caught in Hermione's throat; her knuckles were white as her hands gripped the arms of her seat. Draco's mouth fell open as he stared at the healer.

"They _remembered_ her?" he asked, eyes wide.

"It is… unlike anything we have ever seen here," Carlson said, shaking his head subtly. "Like I said, we had very little hope anything would ever improve. Their minds had come to accept their new reality so thoroughly. They are, understandably, shaken up. But all of the tests we've conducted suggest they've simply reverted to their old existence."

"My parents..." Hermione breathed, her gaze fixated on a point on Carlson's desk. "Remember me?"

"They are, in fact, quite anxious to see you. It is for the best you've come straight here," Carlson said. "I simply wanted to prepare you prior to seeing them, because they have been quite out of sorts."

"I want to see them," Hermione gasped, glancing at Draco. "Now, please."

"Of course," Carlson said, waving a hand. "I will take you to them at once, and then I should like to debrief you again before they are released."

"Fine," Hermione whispered, her mind racing at the implications. What could possibly have changed? It couldn't have been –

"Let's go," Draco said, nudging her shoulder as he stood. He gave her a soft grin, his hand slipping into hers as he tugged her to her feet. He met her gaze, his eyes echoing the shock she felt. "I'd like to meet your parents. And it seems we've a wedding invitation to extend."

"Yes," Hermione choked, and she was grateful for Draco's grip on her hand as she followed along after him and Carlson, still not quite believing it to be possible.

"I should also mention," Carlson said, turning to them as he halted, his hand grasping a door handle. "The matter of trust will need to be addressed. The initial shock has worn off, but they are… rather shaken that Hermione performed magic to remove herself from their memories. In my clinical opinion, some therapy sessions might go a long way. Of course, at the present time, they are simply astounded and looking forward to seeing you."

"Noted," Hermione gasped. The thought wasn't new to her. It was something that had haunted her for years, even before she had been cursed – that they might never forgive her for breaching their minds in such an invasive way.

For now, she simply wanted to see them. She would have time for all the details later.

Carlson swung open the door, and it appeared to be a waiting room of some sort. Hermione carefully followed Draco in, her eyes darting around, furtive, as she looked for her parents.

Then her heart stopped and a breath caught in her throat, her eyes instantly welling with tears.

"Hermione," her mother gasped, and with a sort of strained cry, Hermione threw herself into her mother's arms, silent tears pouring from her eyes and when she pulled away, staring at her mother in a sort of suspended disbelief, Jean Granger was blinking through tears as well.

Hermione's hands slipped to rest on her mother's swollen belly, and she sniffled as a smile came to her face.

"You're pregnant," she breathed, and Jean laughed, swiping at her cheeks.

"Yes," she whispered. "It's a boy."

"I'm going to have a baby brother," Hermione said, smiling as she felt the baby kick.

And before Jean could say anything else, Hermione found herself swept into one of her father's fierce bear hugs, and she choked on a sob at the feel of his strong arms around her, something she had never allowed herself to believe she might feel again.

"It's good to see you, kiddo," her father said, his tone soft and face kind with a smile, and Hermione laughed, ruffling a hand through her father's wild curls. "Even though your mother and I would like to have some words with you about using your magic on us – from what the healers have told us, you were in dire straights up in England."

"All the more reason she shouldn't have gone out looking for trouble!" Jean exclaimed, swatting Patrick on the arm.

"We'll sort it all out later," Hermione said, biting her lip. She glanced at Draco, who had been patiently waiting to the side, and she loved him for it. "I want you to meet Draco Malfoy. He's – well, it's complicated, but he's my fiancé."

"Fiancé, eh," Patrick Granger muttered, stepping towards Draco, extending a hand, which Draco firmly shook with a nod.

"Technically, he's a rare magical creature, and we're magically bonded for life," Hermione said, and Draco snickered as he came up beside her. "So the wedding is just a formality, really."

"A rare magical creature," Jean Granger said, eyeing Draco with a curious look. "Hermione always did attract the most interesting sorts of people. It's a pleasure to meet you, Draco."

"Likewise," he murmured, bringing Jean's knuckles to his lips.

"What sort of magical creature?" Patrick asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm a veela," Draco explained, shoving his hands in his pockets, and Hermione nudged him in the side. "Which more or less means it's instinctive for me to select a mate for life, and to protect her with my own."

"I suppose I can deal with that," Patrick Granger said, his lips twitching.

"Dad," Hermione scolded. "Draco's wonderful." She cast a sidelong glance at the blond, who returned the look with a crooked grin. "You'll both love him."

"I'm sure we will," Jean said with a warm smile as she looked between the two of them. "Now, the healers have done all sorts of poking and prodding at us since we arrived here, and they said once we've met with you we will be discharged."

"Right," Hermione said, her smile faltering at the thought of being separated from her parents again so soon.

"Yes," Patrick said, nodding. "We've got a house to pack up and a life to uproot, you know."

"What?" Hermione choked, her gaze flying between them.

"Well, we're coming back to London, of course," Jean said, waving a hand. "Australia's been nice, but being pregnant in this heat! We'll like to be closer to you, of course."

Hermione let out a heavy gasp of relief, her eyes stinging with moisture again. "I'd love that. We have a flat just in London."

"Well, we'll come for a visit," Patrick said, clapping Draco on the shoulder, who gave a nervous smile.

"You'll have to mind my best mate who's a vampire," he contributed, as Hermione released a giggle.

"A vampire," Jean said, shaking her head. "This is all very fascinating. Hermione, you've been up to quite a lot!"

Hermione snickered, shaking her head. "You don't know the _half_ of it, Mum."

"You'll have to tell us all about it once we're back in London," she said with a dismissive wave.

"Of course," Hermione whispered, sagging into Draco as her parents bustled about, collecting their things, and the four of them said their temporary farewells and went separate ways.

Healer Carlson, who had stepped out so they might have their privacy, returned as her parents were being discharged.

"If you'll come back to my office, please," he murmured.

Hermione exchanged a glance with Draco as they trailed after the healer. He draped an arm around her shoulders with a wide grin. "How's that for interesting!"

"Do you think it was –" she whispered.

"Who else could it have been?" he said with a shrug.

They took their seats at Carlson's desk once more, and the healer pulled a small package out of his top drawer.

"This arrived for you, shortly after your parents walked through the door," Carlson said, scratching the back of his neck. "As if someone knew you would be by soon."

Hermione exchanged another glance with Draco, her lips twitching.

"We've scanned it for curses, and it seems innocuous," Healer Carlson said with a shrug. "Even so, I'd suggest caution."

"Something tells me it isn't dangerous," Draco muttered, snickering, and the healer raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you," Hermione said, waving the small parcel. There was no note or return address on it. "I'll open this once we get home, if you don't mind."

"Of course," Healer Carlson said, rising to see them from the office.

"Healer Carlson," Hermione said, turning to the man. "Thank you, for everything. I'm glad to part on such a positive note."

"As am I, Miss Granger," the man said with a smile. "Should you ever need anything."

Hermione tilted her head in gratitude.

"And Mr Malfoy, if you ever feel like answering some questions about veela," Carlson said, his brows flickering, his question leading.

Draco chuckled. "Suppose I could sometime. Once everything is a bit more settled at home. Owl me then."

"Absolutely," Carlson said with a nod. "Take care."

Hermione found herself clutching the parcel tightly in her hands as Draco activated the Portkey, and shortly thereafter they found themselves back in London.

Hermione nearly stumbled over the couch, distracted, as she turned the package over and over, inspecting it. "Do you figure it's from the Witch Doctor?" she asked.

"I reckon so," Draco said with a shrug, as he dropped onto the couch. "Who else could have been responsible for your parents? And obviously, he'll know you've escaped the curse by now."

Hermione slipped her fingers beneath an opening in the nondescript paper, surprised to find the package wrapped the Muggle way, rather than sealed with magic.

It was a small bag, sealed with a thin metal tie, and her nose wrinkled in distaste as she got a whiff of its contents.

"It's that awful tea he brews," she said, giggling despite herself.

"Throw it away," Draco snickered. He handed her a small note that had fallen loose from the inside of the package. She read it aloud.

 _Hermione Granger_

 _I wish you congratulations on finding the path to freeing yourself from your curse. I trust you and your mate are pleased. Sometimes, we must relinquish control and accept the help of others, and put others before ourselves, in order to truly learn the truth._

 _I hope you have learned this lesson in allowing the natural course of matters and magic. Your reward, as you know by now, is the return of your parents' memories._

 _Enjoy your new life with your new mate._

 _The Witch Doctor_

 _PS. I know how much you liked my tea._

 _PPS. Do me the favour of never coming to visit me again._

Hermione chuckled as she looked at Draco, and he grinned in return.

"Okay," he muttered, "we'll save the tea. Maybe it'll grow on us."

* * *

Hermione's head spun with the whirlwind of the day, and when she finally sat down to breathe, she couldn't quite comprehend the implications.

Her parents were moving back, they remembered her, and she would have a baby brother – It was almost more than she could absorb all at once.

And not only that, but the Witch Doctor had actually done something helpful – and not just helpful, but according to the healers, miraculous.

That he had such a deep, unspoken well of magic was baffling – but that he used it to curse people for his own amusement left Hermione scowling, despite the gratitude she felt.

She would never understand the sorcerer's sense of humour, but hopefully, she would never need to.

It was the first time she had really felt completely at ease in years. Even prior to the war.

The first time she had real prospects of a life, uncursed, with her family and her mate.

Draco's eyes blinked open and met her gaze, having been nodding off on the couch, and a smirk came to his lips as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"What are you thinking of?" he asked, nuzzling her neck.

"Life," Hermione choked, the implications of it crashing over her like a wave. "My family, and my new brother, and the wedding and –" she gasped, blinking for several moments. "It's the first time, Draco, I've really been able to consider my own future. I can find a job, now, and make a difference."

"Yes it is," he said, a slow grin spreading across his face. "You know, I'll be going back to my potions apprenticeship soon, but I haven't owled Master Herrero yet."

"Why not?" Hermione asked, burrowing into his warmth.

"Because we're getting married in a few weeks," he muttered, pressing a kiss to the mark at the base of her throat. "And I promised my mate a pretty ambitious honeymoon."

Hermione gazed at him, feeling the depth of the words as they needled into her heart. The things they had talked about doing, had longed for, when everything had felt so bleak – it was more than a far-off hope now, or a desperate wish.

It could be their reality, and a breath caught in Hermione's throat at the thought of it. Her gaze flickered to the map Draco had hung on the wall of the sitting room.

"So," Draco continued, as if feeling the weight of her silence, "if there's anywhere we want to add to the list, we ought to do it now."

Hermione chuckled, rolling her head to look at him. "I don't _need_ to go anywhere special, Draco. I'm happy wherever you are."

"I appreciate that, and I can assure you it's mutual," he muttered, his grey eyes sparkling, "but, I want to see the world with you."

"Okay," Hermione murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I'm sure we can think of a couple more."

 **October 17, 2002**

Draco was helping Hermione prepare sandwiches for lunch – which meant swiping pieces of deli meat and eating them – when Theo's door swung open and the vampire emerged into the hall.

"Theo," Draco said, swallowing a piece of ham. "I didn't know you were back already."

"Yes, well," Theo said, waving a hand. "As it turns out, Wales wasn't all that interesting. I know, you were hoping I was going to stay there."

"Shut up," Draco said with a grin. His eyes widened as Sally-Anne followed Theo from his room, looking furtive as she gazed around the flat. "Sally-Anne. Welcome back."

He shifted a step closer to Hermione, monitoring the fresh vampire closely.

"Sally-Anne!" Hermione exclaimed, taking a hesitant step from the kitchen.

"Hermione," the girl said, fidgeting with her hands. "It's nice to see you again. And I'm sorry about last time – when I threatened to kill you."

Theo shifted beside Sally-Anne, shoving his hands into his pockets. "She's doing a lot better."

"I'm still adjusting," Sally-Anne said with an apologetic smile, "but Theo said the worst of it is over, and being around people will help."

"It helped Theo," Draco agreed with a shrug. "But I'll warn you right now, I won't hesitate if you ever go after Hermione."

His mate elbowed him in the ribs.

"I won't," Sally-Anne breathed, her eyes wide. "Theo told me all about everything. How you're a veela and Hermione's your mate. I think it's wonderful."

"Thanks," Draco said, his brow furrowed. Hermione's hand brushed against his arm and he smiled at her. "You're welcome to stay here with us, Sally-Anne, so long as you contribute around the house."

Theo pressed his lips together and his eyes flickered to Draco's, with a slight nod.

"Thank you, Draco," Sally-Anne said, fidgeting with her hands again. "Looks like a tasty lunch. I miss food. Can I help?"

"Maybe best not to get too close to them just yet," Theo muttered, tugging Sally-Anne towards the sitting room. Draco smiled as he watched Theo's hand find hers, glad for his friend to have found someone who would relate to him.

Hermione met his eyes, a spark of mischief in her chocolate gaze, as she prepared two plates of sandwiches, and two plates with blood bags. Draco snickered.

He delivered the plates of blood to the two vampires, then tugged Hermione onto the arm of the armchair as he settled in, making a mental note to get more furniture.

"So how was Sanguini's colony?" Hermione asked, chewing the crusts off of her sandwich.

"Ridiculous," Sally-Anne said, waving her bag of blood. "For a group of undead immortal fiends, they were all _way_ too happy!"

Draco snorted on his glass of water.

"Each day of the week had a theme – games and sports, or music, or artistic endeavours – don't get me wrong, it wasn't terrible. I had been expecting some dark, grimy pit in the ground… but it was incredibly strange." Sally-Anne chewed her lip then smiled. "I appreciate that you've let me come here."

"Of course," Draco said, waving a hand. "As if things aren't already crazy enough around here, what's one more?"

The four of them shared a laugh and Hermione smiled at him, saying, "I'm feeling a bit too human here."

Draco chuckled, tugging her closer. "You're my mate. Which means you carry some of my essence now, too."

"And soon to be wife, I hear," Theo said with a grin. He raised his blood in a mock toast.

"Yes," Hermione said, smiling down at him again, and Draco found his breath momentarily swept away. "Very soon."

Draco beamed at her; this was the _best_ he had felt in as long as he could remember.


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note _:_** Thank you for the wonderful, continued support on this story. Only a couple chapters remain, and I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think! xo

Alpha love as always to Kyonomiko!

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 **October 20, 2002**

"I know the last time we all saw one another things didn't end so well."

Ron's eyes shifted between her and Draco, his nose wrinkled with mild disgust. Harry's smile, though rather forced, was a valiant effort.

"But!" Hermione carried on, undeterred, as Draco adjusted his arm around her back, "I've asked you here today under much better circumstances."

Ron's raised eyebrow suggested he doubted it, his eyes fixed on the way Draco's fingers curled around Hermione's arm.

Harry cleared his throat and said to Draco, "Your arm seems to be healed."

"Yes," Draco said, taken aback, "It is."

Hermione beamed at them both. With a flourish, she drew two sheets of decorative cardstock from her bag and deposited one in front of each Harry and Ron.

"Hermione, is this…" Harry trailed off, flipping his sheet over, his brow furrowed. "...a wedding invitation?"

"Yes," Hermione said, smiling at Draco. "I met with Luna an hour ago and she agreed to be my Maid of Honour."

"You're getting married?" Ron asked, his gaze fixed on Draco again. "In… less than a month?"

"Sixteen days, actually," Hermione corrected, reaching across the table to point to the date on his invitation. "It will be a small ceremony, only close friends and family."

"Is this because of the –" Harry cut himself off, waving a vague hand towards Draco, "veela mating thing?"

"This is because my mother is who my mother is," Draco drawled, a smirk dancing across his lips. "Hermione and I care more about being mated than being married."

Hermione turned to beam at him again.

"You've _mated_?" Ron asked, clutching the invitation tightly in his hand, his shoulders tense.

"Why aren't you asking riddles?" Harry asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yes," Hermione murmured, smiling. "Draco and I have mated. And my curse has been lifted, so no more riddles! And for the sake of polite society and all that, we are getting married. Will I be able to count on my two oldest friends to be there?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a bewildered glance, each looking as if they had more questions than had received answers. But then they shrugged and muttered a chorus of agreement.

"Excellent!" Hermione clapped her hands together and sunk into Draco's hold, feeling her nerves float away like waves.

* * *

"See, better than you expected," Draco said as they left the Leaky after a tense, but polite lunch.

"Yes, it was," Hermione said, an absent smile lingering on her lips. "It may take them some time to fully accept things, but I think they can tell you aren't how you were in school."

"And thank Merlin for that," Draco said under his breath. He caught the flicker of her gaze as it landed on him while they walked. "Come this way. I want to show you my mating gift to you."

"You didn't have to get me a mating gift," she said, rolling her eyes.

Draco poked her in the side. "I can if I want to. That is if you'll accept it."

"How rude could I possibly be to reject a gift?" Hermione asked, chuckling, as she elbowed him in the ribs. "But shouldn't you wait until after the wedding?"

"It isn't a _wedding_ gift," Draco reminded her. "I only care about the wedding insofar as it will legally make you mine in the eyes of the majority of the wizarding world. But as far as I'm concerned, the mating bond is the best part."

"I agree," she murmured, meeting his gaze.

And it was. Since they had mated, Draco had felt connected to her like he could never have imagined. He had known, since he learned she was his mate, that she would be the most important thing to him – but never had Draco suspected she would literally be the second half he had spent his whole life missing.

"Where is it?" she teased as they walked.

"You'll see it soon," Draco mused, feeling a frisson of nerves chase his spine at the thought that she might not like it.

"Oh, while we're here we ought to stop by Flourish and Blotts," Hermione said, linking her arm with his. "I could use some new reading material."

"Good idea," Draco muttered, steering her towards the bookshop. "Because what I have to show you is there as well."

"You bought me books?" she asked, smiling. "How well you know me!"

"Something like that," Draco replied.

The bookshop came into sight, and Draco glanced at her as her steps faltered, her brow furrowing as they came to a stop outside. A large FOR SALE sign was plastered to the front shop window, and over top of it, a SOLD sign.

"Flourish and Blotts has sold?" she asked, a furrow knitting her brow. "I hope the new owner doesn't close the bookshop. So many lovely hours I've spent here!"

Draco smiled down at her, meeting her alarmed gaze. "I suppose that will be up to the new owner."

"I mean, yes but –" Hermione cut herself off, blinking. She froze, staring at him. Draco's smile widened.

"Surprise?" he whispered.

He heard the soft intake of her breath and her gaze flickered to the store front and back to his. Her voice was quiet and tentative as she asked, "You bought me a bookstore?"

"If you don't want it, the paperwork isn't finalized," Draco shrugged. "I didn't want to take the choice to find a different job away from you, but there were a few other bids and I had to act fast and –"

"Draco," she hissed, her eyes wide. "You _bought_ me a bookstore?"

"Yes," he murmured, pressing his lips together.

"Oh Merlin," she whispered, clutching a hand to her chest. "A _bookstore_."

"Yes," Draco repeated, smiling. "The old owners are willing to stay on until we return from our trip, but after that, provided you want it, it's all yours."

Her chest heaved with her breathing and her eyes lit up. Then right in the middle of Diagon Alley, she threw her arms around him, planting a kiss on his lips.

"You are the _best_ veela mate ever," she exclaimed.

Feeling a swelling of emotion in his chest, Draco simply drew her closer, pressing a kiss into the top of her hair. "I love you." Then she pulled back, and her eyes were glistening. "Shall we go inside?"

Draco's heart soared at her eager nod.

 **October 27, 2002**

It would be no trouble at all, Narcissa had assured Hermione, to have a dress tailored in time for the wedding. She had waved a dismissive hand at Hermione's doubts, suggesting the reason designers in the Muggle world required so much time was simply due to the lack of magic.

And given Narcissa was a prestige client of Twilfitt and Tattings, Hermione's dress would be a priority.

Narcissa had been thrilled to hear Jean Granger would be joining them – it had been a simple matter of a letter to Kingsley Shacklebolt to make arrangements for Jean to enter Diagon Alley for the day.

So Hermione led her mother, dressed in slacks and a woolen maternity peacoat, through Diagon Alley, feeling a twinge in her chest.

She could read the hesitation in her parents' smiles since they had returned to London, and something inside her had broken apart. But she was hopeful that, in time, they might come to trust her again.

But they hadn't been particularly angry, and Hermione could deal with their wary eyes for the time being, given the alternative had been their empty, unfamiliar stares.

And Jean's gaze now was one of wonder, as it had been every time her parents had accompanied her to Diagon Alley for her school materials. She had offered Hermione a wry smile as they entered the clothing boutique, her eyes sparkling with excitement and unshed tears.

"My Hermione, getting married," Jean murmured, clasping her hands together, her lips pressed together.

Hermione returned the smile as Narcissa rose from a seat in the shop to join them.

"You must be Jean Granger," she said, offering a ladylike hand to Hermione's mother. "I'm Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mother."

Jean blinked once at the imposing figure which Narcissa cut, in her tailored robes, her pair perfectly coiffed and manicured nails. Then she accepted Narcissa's hand, halfway shaking it as Narcissa blinked in return.

"I'm so glad you could join us today," Narcissa said as she reclaimed her hand, beaming.

"As am I," Jean offered with a tight smile, her gaze flickering with significance to Hermione, who grinned at them both. It would make the tedium of dress shopping more interesting.

"And you are with child," Narcissa breathed as her eyes flickered downward, reaching a hand toward Jean's swollen stomach and then dropping it. "Congratulations. How far along are you?"

"Thirty weeks," Jean said, with a warm smile. "A baby boy. Of course, it's been strange how this has all worked out, but Patrick and I are excited. And I think, so is Hermione?"

Hermione nodded voraciously, her brow furrowing.

Narcissa's head tilted as she stared between them. "Such wonderful news, and so nice that the four of you will be together again."

A breath caught in Hermione's throat as she averted her gaze from the two women. She didn't know whether she could look at her mother right now.

Narcissa gave a short nod, then turned. "Giselle will assist us," she said, waving a hand towards a woman sparkling under a heavy load of jewels. "Shall we begin?"

Hermione resisted a grimace as she began flicking through various racks and catalogues and floating, shimmering displays of tiaras, veils and other accessories that Hermione couldn't imagine ever wanting to spend money on.

She tried to picture Draco in this shop and failed, snickering to herself.

Finally, after deciding on a neckline, bodice and skirt she liked, Giselle began poking and prodding at Hermione until she felt like twitching, and the woman draped reams of fabric in place, moving and rearranging. The dress came together at last, and Hermione felt a stinging of moisture at the corners of her eyes as she turned to the mirror.

It wasn't the way she had ever expected to get married – and she certainly never considered Draco would be her groom – but now she couldn't imagine it any other way, and all she could think of was the expression Draco would wear upon seeing her.

And it felt like more than just a wedding, for a moment. It felt like the promise she was about to make – and a validation of the promise they had already vowed one another as mates.

She scrunched her nose as she turned to face Narcissa and Jean, and they were staring at her with identical looks of wonder mingled with despair, their eyes brimming with tears. Jean sniffled loudly and Narcissa laid a hand on her arm.

"That one," Jean gasped.

"Yes," Narcissa agreed, nodding. Her brow was furrowed as she dredged a smile to her face. "Draco will love that, if you like it."

"I love it," Hermione breathed. Her gaze flickered briefly to her mother's. "Although I'm not sure how much it costs."

"Your father and I have some savings," Jean said instantly. "Please, let me get it for you." Hermione huffed a sharp breath, worrying her lower lip, and before she could even respond, Jean said, "I _insist_."

Her eyes stung again at the look on Jean's face, and Hermione nodded.

"Then you _must_ let me help out with the accessories," Narcissa said, beaming.

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but Narcissa was already up, skimming through the floating trays of accessories. Jean gave a little shrug and rose to join Narcissa, and reluctant, Hermione followed along.

* * *

After another hour at Twilfitt and Tattings, which included a quick trip to Gringotts so Jean could exchange Muggle currency, Narcissa insisted the three of them stop for lunch.

So when Hermione finally arrived home later that afternoon, she was looking forward to a relaxing evening with Draco.

But when she Apparated to the flat, she blinked. Draco, Nott and Sally-Anne were huddled around the kitchen table, all staring intently at something. She edged closer, slipping into the seat beside Draco, her brow knitted.

"Are you… playing Scrabble?" she finally asked, when no one looked up.

"Sally-Anne smuggled it out of Sanguini's colony," Nott responded, reorganizing the letters on his wooden tray.

Sally-Anne shrugged. "I was colony champion eight days running."

"Right," Draco snickered, lifting several letters from his tray and positioning them on the board. " _Queue_. With a triple-letter for the Q." He looked up, turning to Hermione with a smug grin as Nott and Sally-Anne groaned. He dropped a brief kiss to her lips. "Did you find a dress?"

"Yes," Hermione murmured, smiling despite her general disinclination to enjoy excessively girly things. " _And_ our mothers got along famously."

"Excellent," Draco said. "After I win this game we're playing…" he trailed off, his eyes scanning a box on the table. "Monopoly. Are you in?"

"Monopoly with a veela and two vampires," Hermione said, shaking her head."Sure, what could go wrong?"

* * *

Two hours later, the smoke from the singed table had nearly subsided, and Hermione gathered assorted empty blood bags and monopoly pieces from the floor with a wave of her wand.

Nott had stormed off to his room after Draco and Sally-Anne had made a suspect trade that was disadvantageous to him, and after the game was over Sally-Anne had gone after him. Draco collapsed into the couch beside Hermione, a grimace on his features.

"We shouldn't play Monopoly again," he muttered.

"No," Hermione agreed, "that was a bad idea."

He turned to face her, fingers trailing across her collarbone. "Can I see your dress?"

"Of course not," Hermione said, swatting him. "It's bad luck. You can see it in a week. And besides, it's still at the shop getting finalized."

"I can't wait," he said with a wry smile. "I mean, I know it doesn't really matter since you're already my mate, but there's something about knowing you'll be mine in _every_ sense of the word."

"And you'll be mine," Hermione said, dropping her head to land on his chest. His arms came around her and tugged her closer, his face nuzzling her hair.

"I like the sound of that," Draco murmured, running a hand along her spine.

Hermione looked up, meeting his gaze with a smile. Then she hesitated. "Are you sad your father won't be there?"

The bridge of his nose wrinkled and he made a sort of noncommittal shrug. "Not really. If the circumstances were different, maybe. If he was still the father I had grown up with. But since the war and everything… I guess things have just changed. I still haven't been to visit him since my manifestation."

"Do you plan to ever tell him?" Hermione asked, her voice quiet.

"Maybe," he said with another shrug, then his lips curled into a smirk. "Just to see the look on his face when he learns it's _you_."

Hermione tittered despite herself. "Because not only was your mate a Muggle-born, but _the_ Muggle-born who was best friends with Harry Potter."

Her smile faltered a bit, and his arms tightened around her. "None of which matters anymore. Not to me, anyway."

"You know," Hermione said, fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. "Somedays I look at you and I can't reconcile what you were like in school with how you are now. And I know a lot of it was the veela instincts, but…" she shook her head, blinking at the sudden sting of moisture. "The way I've come to know you _now_ … I'm really proud of you, Draco."

His brow furrowed as he stared at her, his lips curving into a frown. Finally he said, his voice thick, "I appreciate that."

Hermione settled into his chest once more, feeling the tug of exhaustion on her eyelids.

Draco asked, his voice breaking the silence, "Are we going to share a room? I mean, I know we pretty much are already, but… officially."

Hermione looked up at him, surprised. "If you want to."

"I want to," he said, his voice assertive. "I was thinking we could rearrange the furniture so there's more space in my room, and maybe…" his gaze met hers, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips. "We could use your room as a library."

"A library," Hermione whispered, a breath caught somewhere in her throat. He nodded slowly, a smirk tugging the corners of his lips. Her mouth was dry as she said, "Show me?"

Draco stared at her for a moment, his eyes dark and halfway-lidded. Hermione felt a shiver creep the length of her spine at the intensity of his gaze. "Yes, I'll show you."

She laughed in surprise as he rose and tossed her over his shoulder, then carried her down the hall to her bedroom and set her down, closing the door behind him. Hermione's eyes flickered briefly to his innocent expression, a smile curving her lips.

"Obviously once we remove the bed, we'll have more room," Draco began, waving a vague hand towards the furniture. "The desk can stay if you like, and we can move the shelves from my room into here."

"It sounds lovely," Hermione choked, as his fingers met the hem of her shirt and slipped beneath, grazing the bare skin of her back.

"It does," he murmured, moving behind her, his other hand releasing the clasp on her jeans. "And since you're going to have your own bookstore, I imagine you'll be bringing home books regularly. We will need… _more_ shelves."

"More shelves," she echoed, her voice sounding distant as his fingers slipped inside her knickers, two of them entering her. Her breathing escalated, her hand reaching back to catch him where he was tenting his trousers. Blindly, she released the button and zip on his jeans. "More shelves is good."

"Of course," he carried on in a low voice, his teeth grazing the skin of her neck as his thumb found her clit with slow circles, "this is all temporary."

"Right," Hermione agreed with a thick swallow, as he pushed the cardigan from her shoulders, and his free hand dragged her shirt up as Hermione shifted her arms to oblige him. "What?"

"Someday," he continued, and Hermione could feel the movement as he released the buttons of his shirt and shrugged out of it. "I'm going to buy you a beautiful house. Not the Manor, but a house we pick out together. A place where we can raise a family of our own."

"Yes," Hermione nodded, "that sounds wonderful."

"It does," he agreed, stepping away long enough to rid them both of their jeans, before carrying on with his actions. His voice dropped to a whisper, and his free hand slid down the front of her bra, his fingers teasing her nipple. "And you're going to have a fucking library like you won't _believe_."

Hermione choked on a whimper, and she nearly came at his words. She nodded, reaching behind her to push his shorts from his hips, and he kicked them off as she took him in her hand, dragging her fingers along the smooth skin.

His face dropped to her neck, his tongue tasting the mark on her throat, and a cry escaped her mouth at the feel of it.

"And," he breathed, tugging her knickers down her legs, and turning her to face him. "I'm going to fuck you on every table, against _every_ shelf, until you never look at that damn library the same way."

"Okay." Her breathing was erratic, her core throbbing, as he stared at her, his eyes dark and glazed. He pressed her back against the wall, sheathing himself inside her in one swift movement. Her eyes fell shut with a cry as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her head dropping back.

Draco released the clasp of her bra, tossing it to the side as he plunged into her, and Hermione caught his lips with her own, sliding her fingers deep into his hair as her mind spun and flew towards the sort of euphoric bliss only he could evoke within her.

He kissed her deeper, and the way his tongue met hers mimicked the consistent rhythm as he entered her, as her back slammed against the wall, and a low groan escaped her throat at the feel of him, and the bond, and the magic that flowed between them.

And when she broke, trembling, his name spilling from her lips, he followed her over the edge, burying his face in her hair until he set her down.

He stared at her, his chest heavy with a racing heart, and with a slow smirk, tossed her into the bed. Hermione instantly curled into him as he slipped in beside her, entangling their legs, and his arms came around her. Her eyes fluttered shut and she drifted to a rapid and peaceful sleep.


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note _:_** So I can't really believe we're at this point already. It feels like there's so much more to come but there just... isn't. All that remains is an epilogue of sorts and this fic is done. I want to thank everyone who has stuck by this story, as a reader, and to those of you who share your thoughts on each chapter, it's just been wonderful. I'm so grateful to have so many lovely people who want to read the things I write. Please let me know what you think xo

PS I enjoyed hearing about all your experiences playing Monopoly. I have a few of those, too.

Thanks as always to Kyonomiko for her support as an alpha.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

November 5, 2002

An idle smile drifted across Hermione's lips as she watched Draco in conversation with Theo and Blaise Zabini, the three of them clinking glasses of champagne, looking handsome in their suits. A wide grin was on Draco's face, his grey eyes lit up with a sort of peace she scarcely saw from him.

Her gaze followed the three of them as Theo must have said something, and they all threw their heads back in laughter. Subconsciously, Hermione grinned as well.

It was the first moment she had found to herself since she had awoken that morning, and the tumultuous whirlwind of hair, makeup, and clothing had commenced.

The ceremony had been small but gorgeous; Narcissa had outdone herself with the yard, the flowers, and what seemed an infinite amount of details Hermione would most assuredly have forgotten about. And once the ceremony had ended, Narcissa and Andromeda had efficiently prepared for the reception.

Balls of light hung in strategic places, casting a mellow ambiance in the darkening sky. A quartet of strings played the most beautiful melodies, and Hermione felt her eyes slip shut as the music drifted through the air to reach her.

The ceremony had been remarkably similar to a Muggle wedding, not that Hermione had been to too many of those, but it had been lovely. An official from the Ministry had performed the service, and the heartfelt sentiment in Draco's vows had brought her to tears. He had been blinking rather quickly during hers, as well.

Draco – not only her mate but now her husband as well. He had been perfect.

Hermione's parents had been in the front row with Narcissa and Andromeda – tears streaming down their faces. And if her gaze lingered overlong on either of them, she felt the hot prickle of moisture at her own eyes.

Since they had moved back to London, Hermione had made a conscious effort to spend time with them and to share with them the details of her life.

It would be a long road, she supposed, until they would be able to fully trust her again. But they were back – they were home.

The rest was details.

Her mother's belly was swollen in her dress, and Hermione felt an exhilarating sense of anticipation every time she had glanced their way; she couldn't wait to be a sister.

Her parents had approached her and Draco after the ceremony, their eyes sparkling, and they had embraced her one at a time, murmuring soft congratulatory sentiments.

Her father had held her at arms' length, his brow furrowed with emotion, as he had said, "I'm proud of you, my girl."

It had brought her to tears, once again, while giving her hope, and a belief that things could one day be like they once were.

Narcissa had been beside herself all day, thrilled beyond measure to see Draco wed, and as she had said many times, elated to have Hermione as her daughter-in-law. Her eyes had been sparkling, too, when she had embraced the two of them in turn.

"Hermione," Harry said, sidling up beside her, a smile on his face, Ron at his side. Hermione blinked, drawn from the memories. "Congratulations. To the both of you."

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said, feeling a swelling of emotion rise once more. She threw her arms around each of the boys in turn; across the yard, Draco's gaze found hers, and she caught his small, private smile. "I'm so glad you both came."

"He must not be that bad," Ron said with a shrug. "Especially if he's instinctively bound to protect you, and all that."

Hermione beamed at him. She took a flute of champagne from a floating tray as it passed, and Harry and Ron followed suit.

"He isn't that bad at all," Hermione agreed, lifting her glass to toast with the two of them.

"Seems a decent bloke these days," Harry said, taking a sip from his glass. "I'm happy for you, Hermione."

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said, meeting the sincerity in his gaze. "And isn't Luna beautiful!"

"That she is," Harry said with a crooked grin. "And you won't be able to get out of joining her for a dance of the spirits this time. She's mentioned it several times."

Hermione nodded, pressing her lips together in a smile. "I think I'll need a couple more glasses of champagne first."

Harry chuckled, his brows flickering in amusement. "I'll let her know you'll be along shortly."

"Thanks," Hermione muttered, feeling her energy relax with the thought that everything was good once more with her oldest friends.

Out of her periphery, she noticed Sally-Anne and Daphne Greengrass claim Theo and Zabini, and Draco made his way over to join her, Harry and Ron. He clinked his glass with the three of them in a silent toast, slipping his other arm around Hermione's waist.

"Potter, Weasley," he murmured, though his gaze was fixed on Hermione. "If you don't mind, I'm going to steal my bride away."

With a shared glance, Harry and Ron made their way back into the small crowd.

Draco bit down on his lower lip as he turned to her, staring. "Hi, wife," he said.

"Husband," Hermione mused, dropping her empty glass on a tray and sinking into his hold, her arms wrapping around his waist. " _Mate_."

"Mate," he returned, his voice low and soft. He tugged her out of the main area, to a more secluded alcove of flower bushes imported from Malfoy Manor. He buried his face into her neck, his tongue grazing the mark on her throat. He met her gaze again, his grey eyes intense as they met hers. "I can't believe we're married."

Hermione felt, in the mournful resonance of his words, everything he hadn't said.

That they had found one another, despite the odds. That they had pushed through, even when hope seemed to be lost. That they had accepted the differences in their shared past and had allowed them to drift away.

That he had stuck by her side – and she by his – no matter what else had come their way.

She swallowed, and breathed, "But yet, we are."

Draco shook his head, one hand sinking into the loose curls at the back of her neck. "I don't think I deserve your love, but I'm going to spend every day for the rest of our lives trying to earn it."

Hermione stared up at him, catching her lower lip between her teeth. "I don't believe that's true," she whispered. "I think we were meant to end up together, and everything we've been through was just to prepare us for this moment."

A harsh breath escaped his throat, and his grey eyes were bright as he said, "I love you so much."

Hermione caught his hand, their fingers entwining easily. "I love _you_. I can't wait for the rest of our lives together."

His eyes sparkled, but a smirk curved his lips. "You're so beautiful. I've reserved us a suite… when you're ready."

Hermione stepped closer, pressing her lips to his. She smiled, smoothing the pad of her thumb along the back of his wrist, grazing the cuff of his shirt.

"Soon," she breathed, "I promised Luna I would join her in a dance for the blessing of the spirits. Some wedding tradition she and her father partake in." She caught his gaze. "It feels like poor form to deny the spirits a chance to bless our wedding."

"Merlin knows we'll need all the supernatural support we can get," Draco chuckled, tugging her closer for another kiss. "I'll rescue you in thirty minutes." He met her gaze, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips, his grey eyes hooded and sultry. "And then you and I are making this marriage official."

 **November 10, 2002**

"Are you nearly ready?" Hermione asked, poking her head through the door as Draco packed his bag. His eyes automatically fell to the glistening stone atop her fourth finger; It had been Draco's favourite in the ancestral vault, and she wore it _so_ well. He glanced up, smiling.

"Just about," Draco said, running a hand through his hair. "I keep feeling like we've forgotten something."

Hermione drifted into the room, settling on the bed beside his case. "Well, if we forget something we can most likely pick it up on the trip." She chewed her lip for a moment, her brow furrowing. "I've just gotten off the Floo with Alberto Flourish. All of the arrangements have been made for the bookshop while we're gone. I think he's actually excited to have a bit of extra time to stay on and say goodbye to his regulars."

"And then you'll be taking over," Draco mused, glancing at her absent smile. "You'll be great."

"Have _you_ spoken to Master Herrero?" She raised a brow.

"Yes," Draco nodded, folding a few pairs of jeans with a wave of his wand; the denim dropped into his case. "I spoke with him just before the wedding, actually. I'll be fine to carry on with my apprenticeship once we return. And of course, he's given me a list of regional potions ingredients to pick up while we're abroad."

"Of course he has," Hermione said with a grin.

Draco huffed a breath of amusement, shrugging. "Some things are just hard to find here in England." He stared at her for a moment. "If I'm honest, I'm looking forward to returning to my apprenticeship. After we return, of course. Once I complete my potions mastery I'll be able to actually create some of the potions I've been thinking about for so long. And I'll be able to produce Theo's modified daylight potion for the mainstream market."

"Vampires across Europe will be singing your praises," Hermione murmured, a wry smile on her lips. Draco smirked with a facetious nod.

"Are you finished packing?" he asked, tucking a few books into the open bag.

"Nearly," she said with a shrug. "We still have two hours before the Portkey activates for the first location. Are you going to tell me where it's taking us?"

"Nope," Draco said, lingering on the 'p' sound. He noticed she was wearing the bracelet he had given her for her birthday, her fingers playing with the winged charm. "It's a surprise."

Draco glanced up at a knock on the open door frame; Theo was standing with his hands in his pockets, his brows high.

"I hope I'm not intruding," he said, inviting himself into the room. He leaned against the wall, folding his arms across his chest.

"Not at all," Hermione said, turning to face him from her position on the bed.

"I came to wish you safe travels," Theo said, in a way that was uncharacteristically polite. He glanced between the two of them, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Spit it out, Theo," Draco said with a smirk.

"Fine," Theo breathed. He drew a bag of blood from his back pocket and punctured it, taking a long pull before he exhaled. Draco caught Hermione's amused gaze. "I've been thinking, and now that the two of you are married – _Sally-Anne_ and I – that is to say…"

He drained half the bag.

"We thought it might be more _appropriate_ to give you your own space," Theo blurted.

Draco's face fell as he stared at his longest friend – the man who had been by his side through everything since they had been boys. "You don't – Theo, you don't have to leave."

Hermione was frowning, picking at the comforter as she stared at Theo.

Theo shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "I thought you would say that, but… you know, you're _married_ , and I don't have to worry about your imminent death anymore. Besides, I don't want to walk in on anything _suspect_ …" he shook his head, taking another pull of blood. "And at any rate, we won't be going far. I've bought the flat next door."

Draco nearly choked on a breath of relief. "Next door!" he exclaimed.

"I know," Theo said, holding up a hand. " _Theo_ , what are you doing, you've only just met Sally-Anne –"

Draco snickered, feeling a smirk come to his lips. "I think she's great."

"But we've discussed it, and it'll be like roommates, really, except the kind who have sex and are vampires –" he cut himself off, glancing between them, his expression wary. "You think?"

"We love Sally-Anne, Theo," Hermione said with a nod. "We don't think it's odd."

"Oh, thank Merlin," Theo said, running a hand through his hair.

"Honestly," Draco said, shaking his head. "You thought we would find _your_ situation strange?"

"Noted," Theo said with a tilt of his head. He hesitated for a long moment, and Draco could read the conflict on his face. "It's been a real blast living here, with the exception of a few notable occurrences. You almost dying, mostly."

"Understandable," Draco said, feeling an odd choking sensation in his chest. "I'll miss you too, Theo."

"But next door!" Theo exclaimed, pointing with perhaps too much aggression.

"Next door," Draco nodded, pressing his lips together. "And I'm sure you'll be _here_ all the time, of course…"

"Of course," Theo said, blinking. "We'll have Scrabble night, and _never again_ am I playing Monopoly with the two of you, but –"

"Right, same," Draco said, nodding. Hermione was staring between them, looking out of sorts. "Well, come here, then."

Theo walked forward and embraced Draco with one arm, and Draco winced at the half-full bag of blood sloshing against his back, and when Theo drew back he nodded, shoving his free hand into a pocket.

"We'll be gone by the time you return, but…" Theo trailed off, his brows high. "You'll know where to find me."

"Right," Draco nodded, swallowing. "Just be sure to activate the wards."

There was a loud sniffle from the bed, and Draco looked over to see Hermione wiping her eyes. She waved a distracted hand in their direction.

"Yes," Theo said, with another stiff nod. "Well, enjoy yourselves."

"Thanks, Theo," Hermione gasped, a hand over her mouth.

"Thanks, mate," Draco said, clapping his oldest friend on the back. With a grimace, Theo left the room.

Draco frowned, turning to look at Hermione again. "Stop that," he muttered, "or you'll make _me_ cry, too."

* * *

"We should turn Theo's room into a potions lab, so you can work at home if you feel like," Hermione said, casting Draco a sidelong glance as they approached the Department of International Magical Cooperation, where they would receive their international Portkey, modified for extended travel over a number of countries. Hermione thought it had probably cost Draco a significant amount of galleons.

Their bags had been packed, shrunken and stowed.

Draco's eyes sparkled as she slipped her hand into his.

"We could," he said with a shrug. "I was thinking we could remove all the furniture, hang some fairy lights, cover the floor with an odd assortment of blankets and paint the walls grey."

Hermione laughed aloud as she clung to his arm, ignoring the stares of a couple walking past. "And we could sit on the floor and play cards."

"And eat takeout," Draco snickered. "Just like old times."

"Absolutely," Hermione said, a wistful smile playing across her lips. She tilted her head as she walked, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."

"The best of times," Draco confirmed, smiling as he tugged her closer. "It's all been the best of times, since I've had you around."

Hermione froze in the empty hallway, the smile lingering on her face as she turned to him. She reached up, her fingertips grazing the bones of his jaw and cheek.

She whispered, "I love you." His brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione shook her head softly. "And Draco – we're in this together. For the rest of our lives. The best times, the worst times, and the times in between."

"Yes," he murmured, his hand coming to grasp her hip.

"You've been here for me, more than I ever could have imagined," Hermione said, feeling moisture prickle at the corners of her eyes. Her voice dropped, and she looked down, staring into his chest. "Draco, when you approached me that day – I thought it was a sick joke." She shook her head, her next breath coming sharply. "And you were the _best_ thing that's ever happened to me."

He simply gazed at her, his grip loosening. Hermione looked up, finding herself astounded at the depths of his shimmering grey eyes.

"At our wedding," Hermione carried on with a deep breath, "you said you didn't think you deserved my love. But Draco – you _saved_ me from a life of loneliness and misery. You taught me how to let someone in, and how to trust, and how to _laugh_ again! You're… _everything_ to me."

She laughed through her tears, and a sad smile tweaked at his lips.

His lips parted, and he breathed, "You're exquisite." He pressed a kiss to her lips. "I didn't think this was going to work out at all. And then I didn't think I was even going to survive it to see. But now that I have…"

"My mate, my bride," he said, shaking his head. "I guess we saved each other then, and I wouldn't have it any other way." He released a long breath. "I want to spend every _minute_ exploring what our lives will look like together. I never even _realized_ I could love someone like this. You're my Hermione, you know?"

"I know," she gasped, nodding. Because she did.

Hermione held his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest, blood racing through her veins and throbbing in her ears.

She swiped at the tears in her eyes, slipping a hand into his again.

"Then let's begin," she said.


	24. Epilogue

**Author's Note _:_** So this is the end of the road for another story. I want to thank everyone for reading, reviewing, and leaving follows and favourites on this story. You've all made this a joy and a privilege to share and I'm so, _so_ appreciative. I've got some fun fest pieces, one-shots and full-length stories in the works so if you're interested in reading more be sure to drop a follow!

If you enjoyed the story, let me know what you think :) xoxo cait

Thanks as always to Kyonomiko for her support as an alpha.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

 **December 21, 2002**

Hermione gazed out over the Mediterranean Sea, the waves rocking and tossing the ship into a gentle lull. An absent smile drifted to her lips as the brilliant facets of the failing evening light reflected off the water, oranges and reds and blues.

She folded her arms atop the railing, feeling the beauty of the scene settle into her heart with an ambient sense of peace.

Draco slipped up beside her, his arms snaking around her waist and tugging her against his chest. The stubble on his jaw grazed her throat and she smiled, sinking into his warmth in the chilling air. Her fingers tangled in his hair, longer than usual, and she turned to smile at him as he released her and took up a lookout beside her at the rail.

"You're looking beautiful this evening, Mrs Malfoy," he said, his lips twitching.

"And you're handsome as ever, Mr Malfoy," she teased in return. He gave her a lazy grin, his fingers trailing along the bones of her spine.

"We port in Malta in the morning," Draco said, his voice soft. "We can stay there for two days, then back to England in time for Christmas, right?"

"Right," Hermione agreed. Her eyes brightened as she stared at him. "I received an owl from the healers we hired to help my mother."

"And," he prompted, his eyes widening.

Hermione pressed her lips together, then reached into her pocket and handed him a small, non-magical photograph of her new baby brother.

"Hermione!" Draco gaped, then turned to stare at the photograph, squinting in the fading light. " _Look_ at those curls."

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "I had hair like that when I was born, too." She released a long breath through her nose. "I'm so excited to meet him, Draco. His name is _Cash Ambrose_ Granger."

"Cash," Draco grinned. "He sounds excellent. So _definitely_ home for Christmas, then."

Hermione nodded, slipping the photo back into her pocket. "I'm sure we can find a place in England where you can work on your snowboarding skills."

Draco huffed, his lips pressed together. It had been a harrowing three days in the Canadian Rockies when the two of them had decided to learn how to snowboard, early on in their trip.

Draco had demanded a week on the beach following that portion of their journey, in order to soothe his bruised and torn muscles – and ego. Hermione had been more than willing to oblige him, as she had limped into the chalet after him on the final evening, sinking into the hot tub overlooking the mountains in their resort.

From western Canada, they had ventured to the French West Indies, a chain of islands in the Eastern Caribbean.

They had been to France, Spain, Canada, the United States – then south to Peru and Brazil. The cruise of the Mediterranean had been one of their last stops.

They had explored ancient Incan ruins, ventured through caves in lush forest greenscapes, basked on countless beaches – they had base jumped from a cliff, and then agreed never again would they do such a thing, and what had they been thinking.

They had visited a small village in India, and become absolutely sloshed by way of a vineyard tour in Florence, Italy. They had been to the sub-Saharan desert and gone on a safari – but agreed their trip to the Arctic would have to wait until summertime. Witnessing Draco's first experience in a Muggle vehicle had been one of Hermione's favourite parts. They had taken photos and purchased souvenirs and listened to stories from the locals everywhere they had been.

It had been the time of Hermione's life. She could never have imagined experiencing _half_ of the things they had done in the last six weeks.

But it was the fact that she had done it all with Draco by her side that had made the trip so special. Knowing every day with him in her life was an adventure, and one which she would never take for granted.

"Speaking of Christmas," Draco mused, an upturn to his lips that made Hermione nervous. "I have an early present for you."

"Draco!" Hermione exclaimed, shaking her head. "As if you haven't given me this amazing trip around the world!"

He waved a hand. "This has been our mating trip, and it was just as much for me as for you." He withdrew a small box from seemingly nowhere. " _This_ is a gift for you."

Hermione sucked her teeth as she accepted the package, assessing the weight of it. "You really didn't need to get me anything. And it isn't even Christmas yet."

"Just open it, Granger," he drawled, rolling his eyes.

"It's Malfoy now," Hermione corrected, her lips twitching. He had sealed the package with magic, so Hermione had to dig for her wand in order to release the seal.

Her brow furrowed and she took a seat in one of the lounge chairs on the deck of the cruise ship. His expression blank, Draco took the seat beside her.

Inside the package was a small leather-bound book that looked worn, a vial of an unknown potion, and a small pouch. Hermione raised a brow as she opened her mouth to question the contents, but Draco waved a hand, encouraging her to look closer.

The cover of the book was blank, but the title read _Transformation Magicks_ in an archaic, hand-written script. A breath caught in her throat as she peered at the pale blue, shimmering contents of the vial. Within the pouch was a small leaf.

A breath caught in Hermione's throat as she turned to face him again; she was lost for words.

"I know how much you've missed your lion form," Draco said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I brewed the potion myself, and had Herrero double-check it, so that should be all fine. But the procedure sounds really complicated, and you might prefer to wait until we return home."

"This is a mandrake leaf," Hermione breathed, looking to him for confirmation. "You're going to help me become an Animagus?"

"Yes," he replied, tugging at his overlong hair. "Best I can, anyway. Like I said, it sounds complicated, but I have no doubt you can figure it all out."

"It _is_ complicated," Hermione said, brows knitting. "I've looked into it before, but then when I turned into a lion… well, it wasn't much of a consideration anymore, was it?"

"I suppose not," Draco chuckled. "Maybe you'll be a lion again."

"Maybe I'll turn into something with wings," Hermione mused, "so we can go flying together."

He grinned and nudged her in the side. "Whatever it is, I'm sure you'll love it. Veela can't become Animagi, apparently, according to the book. Conflicting magical signature."

"What about _part_ -veela?" Hermione asked, glancing up from the book. His brow furrowed, and he hesitated for a moment before shrugging. She tucked the items carefully back into the box.

"I'm not sure," he said, "I didn't look _that_ far into it."

"Maybe you can learn, too. Thank you, Draco," Hermione said, a breath catching in her throat. "This means more to me than I can say."

"Well," he began, toeing his sandal into the worn wood of the deck floor. "It's meant that much that you've been here on this trip with me."

"I didn't need the trip, Draco, as wonderful as it's been," she said, meeting his eyes. There was some sort of emotion lingering beneath the surface, from which she couldn't quite look away.

"I know," he clipped. "And neither did I. But it's been amazing all the same." He shrugged, averting his gaze. "All I really need is you."

Hermione smiled. "Likewise."

"And one day," he carried on, "when we're good and fucking ready –" he chuckled. "We'll start a family of our own."

"One day," Hermione echoed, pressing her toe into his on the floor. "Although I know if Narcissa had her way, it'd be as soon as possible."

Draco laughed, even as he shook his head. "I'd like to enjoy my life with you for a while yet before we bring more chaos into the mix."

He gazed up at the sky; the sun had all but set, and the moon had risen into its place within the inky blackness above, the sky littered with millions of bright stars.

"You know..." he said, his gaze tracking the constellations. He turned to her, raising a brow, drawn from his initial train of thought. "It's instinctive that I find Draco first."

"I see it," Hermione whispered, her eyes locating the small string of stars that was her veela's namesake.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "It's the winter solstice, tonight. Longest night of the year." He turned to look at her, a smile pulling at his lips.

"Oh?" Hermione said, her tone breathy. "I suppose it is. What do you think we should do to celebrate?"

"We should probably stay up all night."His expression was serious as he raised a brow; his hand drifted to the skin of her thigh.

Hermione felt a shiver pass through her spine, goosebumps rising to the exposed skin in the chill air of night. She would never grow used to the way she felt when he touched her.

"That sounds like a good plan," she replied, her voice soft.

But she wasn't quite ready to retire to their cabin yet, despite that Draco had, of course, reserved the most lavish suite on the entire ship.

She shifted into his lounge chair, tugging him down with her as she burrowed into his chest, her head turned so she could still see the sky. His arms came around her, drawing her closer.

She dropped a kiss to his cheek, whispering, "To our first adventure together, in a lifetime of adventures."

He pressed a kiss to her lips, pulling back to meet her gaze. His fingertips played across her cheekbone, his hand digging into her loose curls. In the light of the moon she could see the silver sparkle in his eyes.

He breathed, "You'll always be my favourite adventure."

 _fin_


End file.
